Looking out across the sea as we say "Goodbye." to the sun, that fathomless collection of energy pulsing in waves and chaotic spasms of life. Now, to us, the horizon is glowing in pinks, blues, greens, yellows, oranges, purples and reds. This is the sun's farewell gift to us. It's beauty cannot be ignored, the silence is alive with mystery and timelessness. Our connection with the sun is direct and prior to thought. As we soak in the scene, space dissolves and all is one stage in the drama. The birds, the mountains, the sky and air — all the moving forms swirling together like steam separating and merging in natural patterns of life and death.
The writer writes like he breathes. A pulsing of energy is moving out of his brain and through his fingers into the laptop's recognition. The laptop gives and gives and gives - an object of beauty which serves man in extraordinary ways. Receiving input and commands, the laptop works incessantly processing orders with rapid speed.
The rocks are alive, just slower to breathe than us. They are also part of this great earth — our earth, which is us, whence we came, whence arrives our food, our water, our air.
This life we are part of, this enormous collection of energy — the surface of which is dancing without pause in our tangible forms. The edges of objects, thin in reality, give imagination its fuel, but these forms are only the outer most layer of life, the face of the great beast.
We think in terms of labels, words, limited and fragmented logic. This cannot access the original. Our thoughts are physical in their neuronal activity, working like a machine processing past memories presently and creating ideas of the future. But stepping out of this thinking factory, we rest in eternity as time fades back into the illusion it came from and space dissolves into absurdity. There is no "me" or "you" to be found in this ocean of air, this soup of life, this awesome pulsing of eternal consciousness. There is only silence, peace, love, beauty, restfullness, surrender, existence, awareness — consciousness in its pure essence, behind the stories, behind the drama, behind the insults and flattery, behind the pleasures and pains, the receiving and loosing, the accumulating and dropping, the endless dialogue and human evolution of ideas over thousands of years, scientific discoveries, proofs, conclusions, mathematical logic, philosophical beliefs, rhetoric and assertions, prior to all this commotion there is the alive stillness of emptiness, the nothingness of all.
If the entire surface of the earth were to be engulfed in flames and all the humans were to be burnt to ashes, we, as consciousness and life, would still remain. You cannot burn life. Life is untouchable, ungraspable, the source of fire, earth and air.
We are so drawn into the drama of details, the story of "me" and "you", "us" and "them" that we imprison ourselves in our thought-based reality. It's all a dream. The drama is a dream. We must wake up to this freedom of eternity and infinity.
