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Saturday, November 26, 2016

be back in time 11/26/16

I am taking a vacation
from the last moment’s enterprise.
and now I am taking another vacation
from this moments account.
and yet another and another
resoundingly leave-taking
without any further ado.
yes, I have the embellishment of each of them
grandly front stage then falling away.
it is a carwash of a waterfall
grandly into immediate fade.
now features no still shots,
and hardly riveting commentary.
impressions that seem superficial but impactful
are now yet passing.
all of this is gravity made sensory-real,
buoyant but fluidly moving on.
this movie as real life
has no theatre or arranged seating.
I am not in one place with audience perspective.
we are all extras unless it’s personal and or private
but even then from one scene to the next
keeps happening.
so I am taking breaks from the incoming.
I have no excuses or alibis.
somehow there is more to space
then occupancy or account.
some dimensions of being don’t have a self
or are laden with circumstance.
identity is not a first response.
sense is only immersion without claims.
boundary, location and proof are not needed to be. 
recognition has no self-audience.
everything happening is a coming-through.
there is focus on a vast of emptiness
that is filled without furthering clarification.
mind-work is not tasky that way.
memory has no past
but only immediacy of being.
go has no future.
nothing is personal but is fulfilling
beyond the need to claim.
language has no tense therefore somewhat useless.
I be there and back
since all things are simultaneous
but unrevealed as such.
can’t go on as a spectator.
no, no cameras, no phones, no recording.
no one goes there on vacation
with hopes of a return.
there are no timelines to adventure this.
it happens is the front door of entry.
but the space is dimensionless.
you take off your baggage self,
your impression self,
your familiar self,
possibly your experience of self
and certainly your familiar self.
but you can’t claim you feel foreign to yourself,
even if you loose your sense of self.
it’s home without sensory housing.
it’s spirit without claim.
it’s without time
or a sense of substance to intervene.
maybe it is the universal there
without space defining.
thought has no edge, no frame, no content
all heart is a fluid state of connectivity.
“are we there yet” becomes subdued,
then hushed, then muted, now dissolved.
“now”, is all of this and always approaching
as if time existed.
so I am taking leave
and profoundly going no where
but also, I’ll be back, in time . . .

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