Sunday, February 22, 2009

This existence that is me and the experience of myself is eternally here as how I allow myself to exist. This means that every process within me that I allow to take place will play itself out to an end. If the process is one of self-dishonesty, then I create myself and the world around me to exist as the manifestation of dishonesty as myself. Any anxiousness, or any energy for that matter is a process that must find its resolve. If it can fluctuate, then it is a polarity manifestation. That which is constant, remains constant. It is this constant that does not change. It is this constant, that is eternally me, that remains under all circumstance. Because the mind is not constant, it cannot remain here. Self-honesty has no mind, because self is self, thus nothing can exist, but that in which I am here. But I have not proved to myself that I remain, because of the processes I allow within myself. I have not become the eternal constant within, and without because I still fluctuate between this and that.

I've talked about sadness and how it appears that when I have been sad, that an empathy or caring for existence comes easy. It is not dependent upon sadness, however, but this is just how I have come to experience it. But from this sadness, I have found that I have become much more open to myself as a gentle being, that wishes no harm on another. A oneness of us all to support us all equally as the expression of ourselves as life and the support of life's essence. It is as if I have had no energy left, and I have only given up on anything that does not pertain to this moment, and not tried to be anything other than the being I have existed as.

This is key. The taking of this moment as who I am here and directing from here. All ideas forsaken, to live here as this moment of myself. The deletion of self-interested behavior, and a supportive nature of us all as who we really are, as that in which is common to us all. An unshakable stability that IS life. Nothing added, nor nothing omitted. I can touch it, yet I have not proved to myself that that is who I am, or who we are. Because I have separated myself from this as a separate part of me that must be accessed beneath a pile of shit, which is all that in which I have wished to become.

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