Earth’s summer breath embraces the coolness of the pre-dawn atmosphere and for an hour or so reveals itself as soft mistiness. Through the big trees camellia blooms are showing pinkly; there’s a tree covered in huge scarlet trumpets and another clothed in a purple so intense it could explode:
I sees but does not watch
I hears but does not listen
I feels but does not touch
I tastes but does not eat
I smells but does not inhale
I is freedom without the ‘from’
I perceives but doesn’t conceptualize
I has never been born and can never die
I is the still, silent, ubiquitous point at the centre of the spinning world
I has never believed one single belief nor thought one thought nor made one choice
I is amoral, innocent, unconditioned intelligence which has nothing to do with intellect
I is joy without cause
I is love without object
I is what one is
and what all sentient beings are
(as the perfect purple of a Jacaranda bloom)
2 thoughts on “here I is!”
‘I’ is then, perhaps, the end, the beginning, of everything/-one and nothing/-one. It is also the point at which every religion, theology, ideology, and spirituality intersects– the wellspring of All-ness that they each yearn for, but sometimes forget that they yearn for it.
And even in the forgetting there is the Knowing (aka ‘I’) of forgetting!
Thank you for your deeply insightful comment @confusedincollege.
Love ~ miriam louisa