These experiences happened, but I am not these experiences.
These thoughts were formed, but I am not these thoughts.
These opinions were garnered, but I am not these opinions.
These relationships came and went, but I am not these relationships.
These objects were accumulated, but I am not these objects.
This body grew and withered, but I am not this body.
And yet, I am.
Not this or that, but a simple awareness of being.
A permanency beyond the changeability of life.
A spaciousness within the density of form.
A clarity amidst the pull of opinion.
A silent knowing above the din of thought.
I am that I am.
Peerless in its oneness.
Knowable only to all as all.
Words can only point the way.
Patrick Bridgeman © 2013. All rights reserved.