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- the root of the original prayer of the most ancient gods -

Forfatterens bilde: TorsteinTorstein


sometimes

the mind will effortlessly

soften

like a sigh of love

blowing through rustling

aspen leaves


breath of life knowing

its own aliveness,

simultaneously in a natural,

choiceless oblivion


expanding by unclutching,

loosening the misplaced

heredity of rigidity


like an old wooden door

opening a tiny peak

into the universal Mind


the one mind

where the unmeasurable

pleasure of just a taste

by nescessity sooner or later is followed by the full experience,

if just for a short while


and then again, throughout ones

limited time of

inbreaths and outbreaths


its a crazy paradox,

at the root of

where 'knowing' grows

and 'belief' withers away,

that the authentic christ

isnt really christ,


in the same way

that

"the dao that can be spoken is not the real dao"


believers will dance around the golden calf of word and dogma, while the real unnameable no-thing can be called so many things, all and none of them true


i will readily admit to not having any ambition at all,

beyond the practice of melting the stiff human mind into

the One Mind,

birthing the Tree of Life within,


through the marriage of

force and tenderness,

wisdom and innocence


often pausing,

never stopping,

moving,

reaching there by being there,

progressing

by letting

the immeasureable

beauty of Existence

have It's Way


and

sometimes,

within the mind

that touches everything,

like a breeze lovingly caressing the leaves of a birch

in a way that makes a hauntingly beautiful and seductive

golden maiden appear from within its trunk,


in a breathless moment outside time,


this image of the green force of life also being the sacred,


sometimes

within that

One Mind


we'll merge together,

already united where we never were separated,

and


within the state of Love,

the innermost heart sings

your souls original face

in a way

that makes all

and everything

better


and there is

no way

that it will not,


because it

is.


and the remembrance

of this is'ness is the

sweetest gift,


because it's a gift which

when given and received

is the same,


without any difference

at all


and this is

the one true occupation

to anyone

able to imagine or recognize it,

with a blazing 'yes' inside,



becoming,


being by doing,


doing by being,


is'ing

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