LIFE

[Goldcup7]

Yes, 1Greg2, the world flows in circles. We need diapers, then discard them, then we need them again. :)

[1Greg2]

I can't get rid of here and now, neither before or after, or now and then.

[1Greg2]

Vietnam vet, I had it easy, Hawaii, LST for 18 months, shore duty last year of service. Never saw any action. It was an interesting experience, and my understanding about it has evolved. That's been true of all the significant experiences.

[1Greg2]

I have a friend I've known for a long time and he has video meet a couple times week where he advises seekers about enlightenment, whatever that is, donations welcome. I love the guy like I love the world, but he always starts his talks and what he writes about with the adult ego, listing all the things we are not, including our story. I came from the Bible belt and was taught how to be a good Christian, and what a long, long, road it was, and is, like chasing a rainbow for the pot of gold you never catch. All the while, dear reader who is reading this, i.e., ME, the innocent One hasn't gone anywhere. As I discovered, or rediscovered, after the anguish of those confusing adult middle years, what or who we are in the beginning is still here, simply waiting to be recognized. My piece about the Gerber baby is that recognition. I know for a fact (if I know anything) that what we are seeking isn't found in a book or in some far off land. Here and now is always here and now, neither in the memory past, or imaginary future. It's exactly now, always. It's something like space before language had any meaning, exactly here where these words are appearing. Too simple?

[1Greg2]

The Awake are realists, they may or may not wear a watch. They don't live two thousand or five thousand years ago, or even two seconds ago. You won't find the Awake there.

[1Greg2]

I like this very much. Try as I may, I can't find any part to criticize, knit-pick, be prickly about, offended by. I give up.
Excerpt from Post 7

Life itself is just life.
But like God, it gets the blame for many things.
It is something else that is doling out hard knocks.

[1Greg2]

Ask the child.

[1Greg2]

I forgot to remember to forget, a paradox of memories, a tangle net. The past whispers secrets, yet I neglect, the echoes of moments, the ties that connect.

In the labyrinth of time, I wander and roam, chasing elusive shadows, seeking a home. The heart cling to fragments, a bittersweet regret. Forgetting to remember, a dance of duet.

The sun sets on memories, fading like dew, each recollection a star, lost in the blue. I weave them into verses, a fragile vignette, a poem of remembrance, a delicate quartet.

So here it is, my confession, my silent plea, to forget what I remember, to set memories free. For sometimes, in letting go, we find what we've met, in the spaces between forgetting and regret.

[1Greg2]

You pose the question, you must know the answer. Only you.

[1Greg2]

In the hush of dawn's first light, in the quiet of the starry night, in the gentle breeze that sighs, in the laughter of children's cries.

In the beauty of a blooming rose, in the river where the current flows, in the warmth of a loving touch, in the moments that mean so much.

In the songs that birds sing, in the joy that each season brings, in the tears that fall like rain, in the healing after pain.

In the heart that beats so true, in the sky so vast and blue, in each breath that we take, in the love that never breaks.

In the sacred moments we share, in the memories that we hold dear, in every word and every rhyme, in the passage of time. This is where the magic be, in the sacred space we see, in the beauty of this life, in peace amid the strife.


GW: 4/16/24