Stop thinking. Simply stop.
There is nothing spectacular about the reason or imagination of being still.
Nothing to worry about when words do not knock about in the brain ..
.. to tumble randomly out the mouth to be explained as an after thought.
There, above the shoulders, is a vast space.
Not a storage place, but room for shadowy distances,
for mystic peaks,
for tumbling water-stars that swirl in infinite patterns before and within you.
This is no dream, not even a realization, just what is.
And what is, is profoundly obvious and without argument, but a simple truth:
That you are the center. You.
Everything below that is disguise .. an ever-changing kaleidoscope of
age and health, of fashion and trend, of whatever and what-not.
None of that matters. The only ‘real’ is that think that sees it all, that Source ..
.. that Wellspring that can only be glimpsed in the mirror, and then,
only in reverse.