What appears to be happening is reading this. 

That sentence might appear to be a real sentence and it might feel like you just read it. It can be also sensed that all words have no realness. And that those words appearing to describe what is, cannot touch this inexplicable happening, this boundlessness nothingness, this empty edgy everythingness or this simple stunning happening that we have apparently called 'reading this'. 

What appears to be happening is apparently then 'reading this'. 

Beyond those words, a story might begin of perhaps of how you arrived to reading this and what you want out of reading this. Whatever story you have is unique and real to you.  And this story led you to here.

To apparently reading this.

Perhaps you hope to stop seeking. Or to find liberation. Or to know unknowing. To attain enlightenment or be no-self. To arrive. To feel complete. To be at one. To get past the veil. To finally find what you are looking for.

And yet we never really know what it is, that we appear to be looking for. 

If there was a communication here....... it would be saying that already you are swimming in what is, as what is, trying to figure out what, what is, is. That there isn't you and what is. Just what is. Not you and life. Just life.  And whatever you do, and whatever you say, think feel, dream touch is what is. That you cannot escape what is and yet trying to escape or find what is, is what is......But there isn't a communication here. Nothing to add to the dusty trophy cabinet of knowings and beliefs.

You are apparently reading this. Reading this is apparently happening. Neither one of those are real. Neither one of those are unreal. Trying to define this is like trying to catch catching.  For in unknowing, nothing is real or unreal.

This is the only love I can speak of. The love where even love dies. All ideas and dreams, goals and hopes collapse. All that is real and unreal just dissolve into what is as what is. The sense of you and others dissolve into what is as what is. The doubts, fears, longing, seeking dissolve into what is as what is. Nothing is denied. Just what is. No you and what is. Just what is.

And then not even, what is, is a real description for what is. 

And what's left is....what appears to be happening. The story rebooting and collapsing in every breath. An unfolding. An impossible to describe happening appearing to be described. Every inch a rabbit hole. Every thought being that. Every feeling being fully that. Every sorrow, ache, joy, love, is this being fully that for no one. And what is it like?? It is like how it is. However that is.

 

Look baby. Look. Up there. No look. There... It's.. a bird...no sorry it's a plane........ No... It's a...it's...eh....... looking... Just looking darling. Already my darling it's over. Just plain old ordinary inexplicable looking. 

What appears to be happening now is reading this. Apparently.

Wow.