The air is filled with the hollow beauty of goose calls in an act of migratory defiance. The ponds are flooded. The feathers fly. We need wait no more.

We are born to the joys of emptiness yet, deafened by the roar of tittle tattle, we drown in sorrows. Formless, we wear the cloak of tired narratives, never knowing one from another. Yet know this, essence is origin, and peace is an existent reality. Return to the long walk home.

Each to their own universe. Each a singular jumble of dualistic opinions, inventions, prejudices, and suppositions, i.e. perceptions. In short, what we see is how we choose to perceive it, making the universe no more than a dusty reflection mirroring the construct of self.

Do we really have to live a lifetime to realise we haven't? Life is solely in the making, and what’s more, now here is nowhere.

The corporeal ‘I’ quivers as a solitary palm tree on a far distant desert island. Held as absolute, absolute holds. Therein the immaterial nature of permanence. Yowch.

The ‘now’ occurs microseconds before our perception of it. In short, it’s never now, only then, and then again. Of course we can’t keep up. In any case, who’s going anywhere?

Simple and pure, less is more.

The breath of ocean, the swirl of sky. Silence is a warm blanket (or wings, if so we choose). Carried we are as carried we be.

Make the gesture, pay the price. Nothing is inconsequential. Karma is a handbag. Leave it on the platform.

Paranoia is the backstreet of desire. Don’t look now.

Where the mind is naked, so too is the body. Simple, call it love.

The innate mothers consciousness, consciousness smothers the innate. Easy come, easy go. Take a good long look.

In sleep there be peace lest nightmares impede, so too in waking. The fundamentals are a blank canvas. Beware the brush of consciousness. Never mind, never matter.

Oh yes, to mouth the words but know not their meaning, or praise the heights whilst inhabiting the valleys. All or nothing, the chant is within silence just as the silence is within. Amazement is mutation.

True recovery uncovers the malaise. Vulnerability is the wisp of love, the swoosh of the Samurai’s sword. Permanence is a deadly delusion.

In any psychological conflict, the first enemy is yourself. Deal with that, and love unfolds.

Whatever is going to happen, is going to happen. Get used to the idea. Become a ‘whateverist’. Whateverism is both solution and salvation.

When isness inverts to in-ness, the materialist trap is laid. Watch your step.

Frailty, impermanence, and vulnerability are profound expressions of a now that never is. Substance there is none. The wait is over. Awareness is all.

WAR IS OVER IF YOU THINK IT.