Lying in bed, it's cool inside.

Not used to summer days here, both the outside and inside feel appealing.

Basking in the sweet sun, and staying cool in a dark room.

Tired eyes.  Resting. It's seems to be the way of life right now.

Nothing seems all that important to take care of, and life just happens as it does.

Emotions, thoughts, states come and go.  I can't find my self anywhere

and yet Here I am.  Not as an idea, but as THIS actuality.

Here it all is.

Laziness feels glorious, tiredness is not tiredness, it is the mystery revealing itself in this way.

Unbelievable. Not a problem in sight. Not a problem with having problems, how interesting and fascinating.

Diving in with each tide, seeing it's just the ocean, nothing separates the tide from the ocean, in fact the tide

does not exist apart from the ocean and even then how long does it last, does it have a duration?

Or is it just a machination ? foolery, trickery of divine mischief.  God tricking itself, finding itself in diversity.

A spontaneous movement to write arises, from where?

Same place everything arises from here, nowhere, everywhere.

Can not be said.

In this magnificent presence that IS

and all these appearances and changes, are so infinitely rich, infinitely divine

Infinitely interesting, infinitely delicious.

How can it be? but it IS
 


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