That which all stories appear in/on/to isn’t a story… it’s nothing (and yes, that’s a story too…) What IS doesn’t come or go, unlike every story that’s ever been thought/told/believed… Just This can’t be explained or communicated by any story…
People is a label for This… Dog is a label for This… Tree is a label for This… Blood is a label for This… Blue is a label for This… Mango is a label for This… Giraffe is a label for This… Toilet is a label for This… Stars is a label for This…
Breathing is a label for This… Arm is a label for This… Art is a label for This… Dirt is a label for This… Confused is a label for This… I understand is a label for This… Everything is a label for This… And This can never be contained or described by any label…
Wholeness is indivisible… it cannot be divided… so even a feeling of division is Whole… there’s no escape from Wholeness… there’s no getting to Wholeness… there’s just Wholeness…
“Me” knows that, sooner or later, it will die. And there’s no getting around this dreadful reality, regardless of what it does. Thus, its only recourse, as futile as it is, is self-distraction… TV, sex, drugs, alcohol, books, videos, movies, politics, debating others, getting more money, making more friends, a spiritual solution that will provide salvation for “me,” imagining if the past had been different, hoping for a better tomorrow, etc.
And its fuel is its imagined idea that as long as it keeps moving, there’s always the hope that things will be better. IT MUST BELIEVE THIS. But to face the cold reality that nothing it does or doesn’t do, in the end, makes a whiff of difference… well, that is simply too much to even stop and look at, much less be with…