I’m not sure what this post is supposed to be… it’s not exactly prose, not poetry.
? Pure experience, waves moving through pure experience.
I am this person. I do what I will for me.
I feel lack, I am separate, I suffer.
By Grace I ask “who am I really” and “what knows this”?
I hear, I understand, I surrender.
This experiencing is impersonal. This constructed me is NOT what I am…
I am pure awareness knowing this apparent world of names and forms.
An illusory me says ‘yes’ to it’s disappearance.
Nothing of value is lost.. ignorance, identity, attachments.
A fragrance of wholeness, peace and contentment.
Arisings and outcomes are what is here. Not for a me, not mine.
Events and traumas trapped in the body are seen, experienced, freed.
Clear seeing of what is here without expectation or judgement.
Established in being, steady in wisdom, not two.
Actions & interactions are a celebration of Truth, an invitation… a re-gifting.