Is it possible that this very consciousness that is perceiving in this moment is completely free? Free from the feelings – pleasant or unpleasant – of a body, its up and downs, pains and enjoyments, moods and emotions, even the raw sensations that pulse along throughout the states. Free from the thoughts – the buzz of the mind, the projected self-image, the internal dialogue, even thoughts about the truth. And free from the world – not limited to these five human senses but ‘sensing’ itself in a dimension not quite known to man but rather, man being known through it. Is it possible that we are simply playing this game of being people – and yet we have made these bodies out of our own substance and the world they play in too, while all along we watch happily as the person lives it out, set within. Is it possible that the substance of our being is completely intimate with all seeming things, that nothing arises that is not chosen by It? This Being, this Consciousness, has not for one moment parted itself from its home. It has always been, resting in itself, contemplating itself, loving itself, being itself. This knowing, with which you know yourself and out of which all appearances are made is Freedom…
The world within often draws me towards itself – to leave the cares of moving life behind and to rejoin the eternal. There, I find a jewel that I cannot give away. I might well share it if I could. I would make of it an offering, but it’s stuck in my lungs and hands and all the rest. All I can do is Be it. In the moment, it’s just this sweet sense of Being, and these words, a gesture of gratitude with my attempt at a little stamp of light.
Maybe I’ll spend the morning with the geese that hang out near here, fearless creatures they are. They stroll along busy streets causing a mess and don’t care much about the drivers who gets chuffed along the way. Sometimes I think: I am but a bird singing my song for the simple joy of singing it, not (necessarily) to attract a mate, however, just because it’s my thing. That’s a nice image, but today, I think I’d like to be a goose walking in front of traffic, for the simple joy of charting my own course, not (necessarily) to stump anyone or cause a rift, but just because I’m alive. Let’s not get too romantic about it.
There is more here than just the endless inner world, or at least, I’ll give myself, as bird-feed, the illusion that there is, and touch hands to face under the breaking light of day.