IF YOU COULD FEEL IT.....

If you could feel it, you would not believe you could ever know it.

If you could feel it, you would know it is spoken as truly as it ever can be told in the echoing note of a guitar floating into the wind.

If you could feel it, you would see it in the flower folding in upon itself in the photograph taken by a little girl and painted by a trick of the light inside the theater of your mind.

If you could feel it, you would not know what consciousness or the brain or love or rain was, and you would not even know that you do not even know.

 

If you could feel it, everything would stop and you would see that it had never even begun, that there wasn't ever anything at all, yet nothing is also everything.

 

If you could feel it, the warmth and cold and light and dark and the fire glimmering in the stone fireplace across the cabin and the echo of an owl and the call of a wildcat and the luminous darkness would not be outside you or inside you, and inside and outside and you and not-you would not even be comprehensible.

If you could feel it, you would hear your heart beating like a drum pulsing in the molten core of the fiery earth of your wildest imagination, and not care whether it is all your imagination or if you are being imagined, for both would seem the same and neither would be true.

If you could feel it, not a single word would be true, yet nothing could ever be a lie.

If you could feel it, none of it would matter, and it would be read in the space between the words, not in the silence, but from where silence arises. No where at all.

Not two doesn't mean one. It doesn't even mean not two.

 

Nonduality  is concept a few people may find, but likely there are some unknown dreamlings who simply lose the veil of separation one day without ever meeting the small group of humans engaging in discussions about what can never be understood.

They simply live, feel, breathe as what they truly are. And are not. And don't even know there is such a thing as Advaita or nonduality or that some people spend their lives looking for what to them simply is without names or definitions.

 

If you could feel it, it would be no more or no less than...

A voice in a dream whispering your nameless name.

A butterfly cascading down a canyon, disappearing into wings that fly us all away.

A song with no words nor music.

A dance with no movement.

A girl who was never born, but who died when life resurrected her as a shadow, a reflection of love, a ghostly phantom bursting with ineffable emotion, there and not there, washing away with her tears in the cool autumn rain,

a leaf fallen from a tree becoming what it always has been, an infinite infinitesimal invisible speck in the ground of being that is no ground at all.

Always only ever this.

Love.

And not even that. 💓💓💓