Unable to understand empty fullness, mind unaware of what arises there, instead relies on complex words, reaching the outer limits of tellurian ken. Waxing poetic eschews the noetic, a beginning yet a certain end, seeking the higher using the lower, nominal numinal nomenclature. Knowledge of the subtlest kind, beyond contemplation of the mind, where nothing can invoke or provoke, you shedding you to pass through. Rest here, rest as... rest itself.
2 thoughts on “Mindfallness”
Reading and re-reading this brought calmness and that sense of rest! Thank you!
Glad to hear that Mom! 🙏🙂
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