The Thread of Emptiness

I am “outing myself” as emptiness. It is getting easier and easier to do, as my mental functions become eelier and my essence has taken over the space. The result is a version of Vicki that is more and more to my liking. She has little to do with any social scene. She now finds value in living an interior life built around what might be called, for lack of a better word, a “vibe.”

I have pulled away from all online groups because I do not see myself in a clear mirror there. Indeed, all of the posturing, phrases, cutting and pasting of famous or long-dead poets has become annoying. It feels like The Academy Awards of Nobody Home. Sadly, being telegenic has taken precedence over essence.

My little imaginary Swami Z has as much to say about awakening as anyone I know because he couches everything in a wink. No pomposity on his part. Just a nudge, nudge, wink, wink and he is off to the races. (Races to the couch for a nap.)

The social barometer is changing so fast that no one knows anything except instantly. That saves time for important pursuits, like doing nothing. Emptiness is turning into a full-time job for me.

The writing I do arises from emptiness and returns there with the speed of light. My history is being erased as fast as I can allow it to be. Replacing it is the sure knowledge that no knowledge lasts but something sure does. As Vernon Howard said, “Our essence comes down from the stars.”

I teach through my writing and silent focus. I like that because it is the only way I know to be and being is everything. Healers heal by being who they are, not by indulging in a specific practice. No one can practice to be whole. That would be ridiculous.

Once you have read this, perhaps you can nod and admit I have thrown out a line of truth that can be grasped. The thread of emptiness weaves an invisible garment. It’s name is Peace.

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