I love this image of the reclining buddha. “Rest and rapture, what else is there?” asks Pamela Wilson. Well, this old buddha-in-the making is resting from duality. She has had quite enough of it for one lifetime.
I rest. I rest my case against life. It means me no harm. It is what it is. I am what I am.
The fear and desire that power the machine are what they are. No use fighting them.
This is a declaration of defeat.
And yet, defeat leads to rest.
Love finds a home in rest.
Silence finds a home in rest.
The only prayer now is “God help me.”
I turn to the words of my teacher, Vernon Howard, who was the initial awakener for me. Long dead, he rises again and again in my consciousness.
The waves of the ocean roll on.