I've been away, but I haven't been idle!

we are as fish behind glass. an infinite radiance pressed against this bubbled moment of reality like a child gaping through an aquarium porthole. see and hear and taste and smell and touch this moment of extension. it is not happening to you;it is happening within you. within all of us at the same time. we are all expressions of the same divine chord. each of our distinct awarenesses comes from the same place. there is no one and one and one. there is only one, and the one us. the one is above the physical. beyond it. it exists with the same inexplicable necessity of your beating heart and pulsing, querulous brain. this cramp, that tickle, the hum in your throat. they are as removed from you as the objects which surround you. your cough is no more a part of you than the clock ticking on the wall.  you, true you, are an infinite wave of energy, vibrating in perfect pitch with the rest of reality. the “i” you think you are, you are not. you are more than and less than this “i” simultaneously. you are above selfishness, above desire, and above anger. these things are temporary expressions of disappointment or avarice, emotions which stem from the illusion of your separateness. you can only be angry or disappointed if you view yourself in opposition to others, in competition with others, or indebted to others.


picture reality as a plastic tube full of water. if you squeeze one end of the tube, the other will stretch and fill, while the one you squeeze empties. release the end you hold and balance will return. then, squeeze the other end. then end which was full is empty. everything flows from one to the other. no molecule stays in one place. so it is with life. there is no less or more. there is only ebb and flow, absence and return. there is no permanence to the states of being we take so seriously. the permanence lies in the infinite radiance  from which we stem; the depths our souls well up from; the perfect pitch of our hearts. we are so attached to what we see through our portholes, we forget to consider where we’re looking out from. the things we see and feel are distractions so absolute we forget even as infants that we are being distracted. the shadows of this moment in the current of time seem to be all we have to chew on. don’t you feel your connection to the infinite? silence the voices which tell you to focus on the transience of your body and instead pay heed to the silent eyes of the mind. to what are they teaching the color of the grass? and for what?


yes: only the perfect but happenchance workings of evolution

yes: the workings of chemicals

yes: mitosis, synapses, neuroses, memories, habits and heresies


but also: the hum of the universe, trembling like the string of a harp.


and you: you are it: and you hum too.