Audio above is taken from two different meetings. The introductions. Sometimes I wonder what is it that is being attempted at being described. The same words appear. Really it's this. What is happening. The unknowability of what is. And the joy that this can't be described, known, held, contained, found, or bound by words. For this to be known, it would be entering the gates of hell. For the moment the knower gets to know the world it becomes stale. Been there, done that and wore the t-shirt. Who could imagine that the freshness is the unknowability. And yet this was always the case. This child like cluelessness. Still watch out for the hot sauce pan. Thankfully the knower or seeker or the me will never arrive at their own attempt to arrive. You will never touch your attempt to touch this. It's just happening. Seeking is just happening. Life is just happening. The danger with words is they suggest then that life can be known. This repeatedly points back to unknowing all the while words are being used. I have regular thoughts that I'll never write or speak again perhaps because of this paradox. Till suddenly here writing. Hahahah. Kinda funny really. Just words baby. Just thoughts.
Words bind the wordless into a thing called wordless. And bind the suggestion that the unknowability of ‘this’, ‘what is’, ‘’life’ or ‘energy’ can be known as a thing called ‘unknowing’. Life unfolds and the words that are appearing now to describe what is, is what is, as that. Without the individual's story about "what is" not a lot can be said. This then is life, everything, nothing, energy appearing as writing/reading/editing..supping on a morning coffee, hearing bird song, sleepy early morning thoughts. The message is that you are not doing the reading nor hearing the bird song. There is just the sound of birds..Utterly uncatchable. "Wow" or "Oh fuck" or insert here " _________"..you wont be able to do the reaction..still reactions appear to happen........