This experience seems endless. For no matter how many times I seem to dissolve myself, I keep coming back to this moment, to this space where I seem to be experiencing something. Yet nothing seems to ever be happening to me.
I am therefore in the midst of the Dreaming. I am the dreamer who realizes he is but a speck of imagination; a tiny particle of dust in the mind of an eternal sleeper. That he who sleeps, the God who slumbers, is for a tiny moment almost waking up, and in waking up gives birth to me and to this palace of its creation.
These are words that express the wonder and awe of simply being alive; deep and fresh.
Thank you, brother!