Welcome.
Let's just get settled into silence and our own being, and then take it from there.
Make yourself comfortable.
Take a deep breath—always nice—and just let it fall away.
Notice the quietness here.
There's spaciousness here.
We can rest here, allowing our minds and bodies to settle.
We've already arrived.
It's the nature of our being—we have already arrived. Much of our troubles come from the idea that we need to be somewhere else.
There's an ease in the very presence that is always here if we simply turn our attention to it.
Bring attention to the quiet, spacious aliveness that is always present.
The idea that we have to go looking for something to be at peace can just fall away in the simplicity of this moment.
Notice the aliveness, the transparent presence of being.
Breathe into that, settle into that, enjoy that.
This is taking refuge in the Self, in silence, in aliveness.
The non-striving, non-grasping, naturally open field of being.
Thoughts come and go.
Memories arise and pass.
Sensations and feelings emerge, yet always, the openness remains.
There is a spaciousness, a boundlessness to this aliveness.
We are at once apart from all arisings, yet all arisings are of us.
The spontaneous nature of everything can be seen.
Thoughts, feelings, sensations, memories—they come and go on their own.
Who are we, then, as this spacious awareness?
We witness action. We feel sensations.
Yet here we are, quiet, turning attention inward.
Even grasping or resistance, if they arise, can be seen clearly as small qualities of consciousness arising within an open, boundless field of being.
What could resist what here?
Simply rest in it as it is.
Breathe into the ease and restful nature of your being.
Witness experience.
All that comes and goes does so easily—nothing to do, no one to do it.
There is peace here.
This peace is the nature of this place.
Quietly joyful, not neutral but alive.
Even if a sensation arises that brings tension or reactivity, we can notice that reactivity itself is held within a greater space of being.
That spaciousness contains it with such vastness that we can let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whatever has some stickiness or activation—let it exist without involvement.
We don't have to get rid of it. We don't have to push it away.
We don't have to attack it or engage with it.
We can simply allow it to be here.
Being aware of our spacious nature in which all arises.
Like emotional content that emerges—we can recognize it as a quality of being.
We can feel into these things without controlling or manipulating.
Be curious about what shows up here.
Allow attention to be drawn wherever it wants to go.
Feel the contours and textures of arising phenomena.
All the while, we remain spacious, aware, tender.
There is freedom in letting be.
There is freedom in recognizing our nature—spacious, boundless, peaceful—where anything can come and go.
For now, we rest, settling into silence.
Maybe there is a calling, a drawing inward, a dropping, a gravity into deeper rest and peace.
Rest here, as this.
This is the simplicity of meditation—of abiding.
Let the gravity of easefulness draw us quietly into our deepest nature.
Rest here, like the bottom of a river, watching boats passing above, untouched.
They are there—we could engage, but instead, we remain resting.
Not giving too much interest to anything but the quietness, the openness, the spaciousness, the peace.
This isn't truly an escape.
By resting here, coming to know this so deeply, so pervasively as our nature, it never goes away.
Even as we reach out, engage, interact with the world,
even as we allow the waking state to be involved,
we become so familiar with this quietness that it is never lost.
It is always here.
This practice is simply an opportunity to abide in it more deeply, quietly, uninvolved.
But as we go about life,
our awareness has expanded to include this recognition.
The simplicity of silence is the foundation of realization and integration.
By recognizing and abiding here,
by understanding the nature of arising and passing phenomena,
we come to see that the world is arising in us.
We are this boundless ocean of being.
We are not in the world—the world is in us.
Noticing how quietness is here, and also the coming and going of thoughts, feelings, and sensations—
we see that all arises and dissolves on its own.
We are freed from the need to control and manage everything.
It all moves by itself.
We are free from it, which makes us free within it.
If it wasn't already clear, one might ask: Who am I here?
Who am I in all of this?
Let experience report back.
Not looking for answers, simply asking the question and sitting with it.
Who am I?
Experience this.
Who knows this?
Who is aware?
Why do we ask this question?
Because if we believe we are something,
and yet we know intuitively that all things come and go,
then identifying with things makes us vulnerable.
Yet we are the witness of all things.
Formless in nature, yet containing all forms.
Boundless, open, peaceful,
while enjoying forms, limitations, particularities.
What is this?
Live in that mystery, that freedom.
And there is nothing to do to establish this level of being—
other than to give it attention.
Turn to it, notice it, remember it.
No effort—just as it occurs in daily life,
that moment of release, of ease, of remembrance.
Like waking up from a deep sleep or a dream,
bit by bit, awareness becomes more present.
We wake up.
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