Sunday, August 16, 2009
Walking along the avenue with my kid in tow and looking at the people. 'They' are not 'me'. Every one of them different. Each one of them with a different expression and a different gesture considering me in their momentary posturing that is likely a habitual stance. 'Me', looking at 'them' out of a likewise habitual stance. What are they to me? A complete mystery. What am I to them? A complete mystery. What am I to myself? Unknowingness. Mystery. Complete. That is what makes us the same. Our eyes shine the light of complete mystery. And vibrating in and as all place and moment the stunningness of this appearing with no possible hold or claim from any thing, because this unknowness is everything. Nothing can claim the mystery of this. All that is.