Wednesday, January 31, 2018

The Grand Show

When you know that you are that essence, and everything is that essence, where is death? Images arise, play their roles, and fold back into essence.

Where can there be any attachment when all is one? There would need to be separation for attachment to have any meaning. And there is none.

Aloneness is not possible, because that would imply two, and essence is all there is. No other for comfort.

Stillness speaks loud and clear. Distractions of otherness fade like dream characters. All possibilities arise and dance. All have their say. Then stillness takes them home.

Essence is still while the play goes on. The show is grand. So many stages. So many actors, lost in their roles. Who wakes up?

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