Friday, May 20, 2016


I've experienced causeless joy, but it never lasts. It has meaning without knowing reason or proof. And when it goes, I have to let it go. I can't grasp for it, though I wish it would stay. It is like Jazz, free of any particular form, yet taking on any form it chooses in its own time.

There is a silence behind the joy, just like the silence that is behind sorrow. And the silence is there behind all the other experiences that come and go. It takes some subtlety to even recognize the silence. That is why so few speak of it.

But silence is the source of all we experience. Silent, yet always mysterious. I can't grasp it, but I can recognize its existence. In fact it is existence. We are the embodiment of that silent mystery. Ah the mystery. 

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