suchness of this

On a walk this morning there was only this: Awareness full of itself, a radiant presence gloriously diverse yet utterly itself. That it could be this simple. That there is only this, this experiencing, right here and now.

Even the labeling of an experience - three roosters sit on a fence, clouds - was simply an experiencing, the experiencing of a thought here and now. Experiencing was only itself, loving itself. Love as unobstructed presence.

If I were to say, I witness this as awareness, I would already be saying too much, already a separation occurs. The witnessed IS now the witness and the witnessing. Perhaps, rather, in seeking words on this page, it would be to say that the suchness of experiencing is to live the truth that when there is no thought about the future, no thought about the past, peace and experiencing live as one and the same indivisible dance, awe-struck and striking awe, amid creating and destructing.

That it could be this simple. Only this, appearances forming and un-forming, dancing, in the stillness of being.

A puddle of rain shivers in light. Breathing happens larger than the physical body, a cosmos oscillating. Clouds shimmer within a copse of wind-blown grasses. Faces of people tell the stories of sorrow and joy. Everything can be reduced to this one singular knowing, a distance of zero. Every thing is a portal to the no-thing that’s everything that is God.

Your face the face of God. What can I know for sure? I am. That’s already something. Quite encompassing, really: This capacity to love. Being presence. Look, a flock of saffron finches takes flight, we keep on falling into eternity and God keeps on singing and singing.