On Meditation
A dream you wake into.
Fall into the gap.
Sit—
in a shape that holds your being,
softly—
like butter warming into milk.
Be inside the small oceans behind your eyes.
Begin—
as if there were a beginning.
The self needs nothing.
The self already is.
Not to be found—
but remembered,
again and again,
in the steady breath.
So simple.
And yet—profound.
—
On Life
Preferably—sit naked.
Place the right hand
on the left side of your chest.
Feel your heart.
Listen to the breath.
Sit with a deep feeling of safety.
If safety is not in memory,
then imagine it.
Suspended—
in translucent jelly.
In the belly of the celestial womb.
Cradled.
By the life-force.
The river beneath the river.
Relax.
You are safe.
You are alive.
Life is imprinting itself into you.
Breathing itself into you.
You are being lived.
Let it.
—
On Breath
Come.
To the breath.
Breathe.
And notice—
it breathes on its own.
Sit with the knowing that:
the probability of your existence
is 1 in 400 trillion.
Let that deepen.
Let it deepen further.
The fact that you are breathing—
is miraculous.
Every breath—
a singular event.
Each one:
a slightly different expression of life.
Even in sleep—
it sustains you.
Thank the breath.
Be with the breath.
Be in the simplicity
of breathing.
On Love
Place your hand on your heart.
Feel the rhythm.
The quiet pulse of presence.
Love is not emotion.
Love is the texture of being.
It expands from the centre outward—
like soft light from a sun
inside the chest.
Remember love
not as a person,
but as a warmth.
A veil made of light.
Let it stay.
Let it fill your limbs.
Let it replace the image—
with sensation.
Let love cover you
like a feathered sky.
—
On Perceiving
Bring awareness
to awareness itself.
You are not the “you”—
but the one perceiving.
What perceives?
What hears?
What observes you seated?
What is this
formless presence—
that owns nothing,
yet is always here?
—
On Presence
Take in the present.
Not only by sight—
but by the internal sound
of this now.
Feel its texture, the texture of here.
Its neutral clarity.
Still.
Faceless.
Without requirement.
Presence is simple.
But within it—
is everything.
The paradox:
a moment containing all moments.
Held by all beings.
Consciousness—
in molecular diffusion.
In galaxies being born.
You—
a filament in this great web.
In the quiet of now,
eternity unfolds.
—
On Truth
This life—
is a flicker
in the eye of eternity.
It is enough.
It is immense.
And it will pass.
—
Who Am I
Ask: Who am I?
Now ask—
who is it asking this?
What is here—
behind the voice?
Beyond the shape?
Say gently:
Quiet, mind.
Then fall inward.
Into space.
Into the blankness.
Ask again:
What is here?
Let yourself dissolve
into the question.
Then say—
I am That.
And let the words
evaporate into silence.
Be Empty of Thought
Say hello to the mind.
Then say goodbye.
Let thought wash away—
like riverwater through fingers.
Let stillness enter.
Not by force—
but by absence.
No wanting.
Not even the wanting
to experience something.
Let go of wanting to let go.
Just sit.
Be quiet.
Be vast.
Let the moment
pass over you
like wind over stone.
—
Without thought—
we remember:
Reality is still.
Behind the noise of mind—
everything is quiet.
Only the mind
creates conditions.
The self has no condition.
It just is.
Life, just passing through.
—
Behind who you think you are (inspired by Mooji)
Come to sit.
Now—leave what you think you are
at the metaphorical door.
The name.
The family.
The career.
The beliefs.
The story.
Leave it.
Now—
What is left?
Who is here—
when all that is removed?
What remains?
Be with this.
Let this silence
become the new home.
