Intimacy

This exquisitely fragile world, this mind-blowingly impermanent, iridescent parade of sights, sounds smells.

How impossible to communicate the absence at the centre of it all, the fact that it has no centre, that it swims in nothingness, arises and dissolves continuously in the barest emptiness.

How fragile it is, how fleeting. How beautiful. How … indescribable.

And yet, how simple, how utterly obvious.

And in liberation, when the person is not there, it is not an empty void …. not at all!… it is a full-bodied cacophony, a stunning play of dancing, singing, shimmering reflections of refractions of reflections of the original One, an utterly convincing trick of light… and it all happens for no-one, and it is always already released from the need to be anything other than what it is.

Yes, it all appears to no-one, happens for no-one, but it’s not a detached world, no, not at all…. in fact, it’s now all so intimate, in fact it is nothing but Intimacy itself…. because there is simply no “me” separate from “it”…

Only It, only Life in its totality, the One and only, in its infinite, intimate manifestations.

This will never be communicated. It is beyond all that, too great for all that…. and yet too simple for it too.

Just this – shimmering this, impermanent this, ineffable this.