I opened the door and the room filled with light. I stood in its warmth and sighed. Relief flooded my being and I became still.
It was a stillness that had never gone away though I had believed it had. Nothing of myself can leave me. Now I know what is thought and felt in this world. There are strange occurrences that bring grief and emptiness, all built from lies. I can only be imagining such a strange reality. I need not let this continue to concern me. I need not despair of it all happening to me as I thought it had happened.
It hadn’t.
It was now morning. And what stood before me was the empty page waiting to be filled from the depth of my stillness. Yes, the one Stillness that dreams yet soars to heights of freedom for remaining what it is. And it lives only within mornings that bring fresh, open pages to show the eternal Originality. Life is a constant morning. A constant Renewal renewing itself. A constant letting go. A constant finding.
Coming and going is what takes place. And within all that twirl of life is the constancy of the Constant Presence that delights in its constant twirling of self. This is the nature I am given. I have no other. Life and I live like this, as one, needing no explanation to confirm aliveness.
I am awake within the Dawn that empowers me.