In our stillness we plant seeds, and in our silent knowing they thrive and bear fruit.
When we sit with ourselves, truth and beauty, love, softness and bliss all journey to meet us. They long to envelop us. To become us. When we sit without seeking, we are found. When we sit without grasping, we are held.
When we sit in that still place at the centre of Being, we sit in abundance. In gratitude. We are filled, we overflow. We Are. We sit and listen to the beautiful music of silence, and we hear the still voice within who invites us to remember. It is Now, love. It Is, always.
It is now, always now. It is enough, that we are here. It is enough, that we Are.
In our stillness we are fearless. There is nothing to hold on to, there is nothing to lose. We are but raindrops merging into the ocean of All that Is. Softly, slowly we melt into the warmth of our hearts. It is from such timeless bliss we are born, and to it we shall return. It is now, always now. It was always now.
When we sit with ourselves we sit in astonishment, for it is in stillness we embrace our divinity, and in its arms we know bliss- and in its arms, we know we have come home.
In our stillness we explore inner space with its lush gardens full of colour and song and the scent of the rain. We collect fossils and shells from windswept beaches. We listen to the stories of ancient trees and the music of the birds as we forage the delights of the forest floor. We rest our heads in the clouds. In the soft grass of a moonlit meadow, we make love amongst wild flowers. We drink the views from mountaintops, we play like children in the snow, we bathe in hot springs.
In our stillness we plant seeds, and in our silent knowing they thrive and bear fruit, so that we may taste the ineffable sweetness of who we Are.