the me

There is the appearance of a flag, a colored banner on a craggy mound, in sun and rain and moon, tattered by wind, flapping in deep starlight. Other banners appear to flutter in the distance, some near, some far, some fallen as they all fall eventually.

The appearance of a me constantly changes, to wave, to fall and vanish, for it never is but an appearance.

Life and Death

The appearance of life and death is just a hobby.

All of the story of good and bad, pain and pleasure, seems to come and go.

It is all quite entertaining.

The 'I' and the getting caught up are the same fixation.

Beneath the 'I am'

Looking beneath the 'I am' to what is seeing

it is discovered that the looking and the seeing are one.

'I am' and all its baggage are merely thoughts.

There is only the absolute

There is only the absolute.

Supreme intelligence radiates from and as the absolute.

All things are the supreme intelligent radiance of the absolute.

You and every speck of atomic dust and anything imaginable are the supreme intelligent radiance of the absolute.

But you cannot put your finger on the absolute.

Can an eye see itself?

Only the radiance can be seen like a river flowing from source to source.

All of this is you

There are no enemies because there are no others, all of this is you.

And you appear in an infinite variety of expression as this moment of being.