Belly of a Star

my practice of compassion

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Rest My Lover Sweet

Rest . . .


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the temple of shelter, I bring forth

Evaporate into my ever-welcoming softness

Rest upon my armored chest

Soothe your woes with the weavings of safety

As I lace my fingers through your delicate thoughts

Nestle in my sincerity and bring forth the whole

Of your weeping mind


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the embrace I offer

Bear down your troubled truth

In endless streams of heartstrings

Birth into my stronghold the delicacy of your days

Outstretch the ancient avenues bleak

And allow me to catch each drop

Of your weeping pain


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the abundant kisses I place

Your dampened cheeks renewed

Emerge unburdened and unafraid

Ghost tears resolved

From my baptismal waters

Dip and rise as final fragrance, freed

Of your weeping secrets


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the devotional cradle I bring

Let timeless mysteries unravel

Fairy ribbons dance

As I inhale your palpable purity

A vulnerability announced and devoured

Inching into nectarous casing

Of your weeping body


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the caresses I lavish

Where ecstasy meets fantasy and nightmares dare not enter

Far from harm’s way

Demon memories shaved away, and countered justly

My sword hoisted as sign of my delivery

Forging through as gentle giant in heavenly forest

Of your weeping spirit


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the towering warrior I am

Breathe in the light rising out of this hollowed space

Lapped in the kindled-fire hues

Reflecting the heat you inspire

The appetizing scent you bleed

Assigned guardian

Of your weeping heart


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the arms I spread

Bird to flight

Open the book of me

A child to leaping pages

Grant permission to put an end to empty words

Your healing right, laden with the salvation

Of my weeping love


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the devotional cradle I bring

Let timeless mysteries unravel

Fairy ribbons dancing

As I inhale your palpable purity

A vulnerability announced and devoured

Inching into nectarous casing

Of your weeping body


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the caresses I lavish

Where ecstasy meets fantasy and nightmares dare not enter

Far from harm’s way

Demon memories shaved away and countered justly

My sword hoisted as sign of my delivery

Forging through as gentle giant in heavenly forest

Of your weeping spirit


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the towering warrior I am

Breathe in the light rising out of this hollowed space

Lapped in the kindled-fire hues

Reflecting the heat you inspire

The appetizing scent you bleed

Assigned guardian

Of your weeping heart


Rest my lover, sweet

Behold the arms I spread

Bird to flight

Open the book of me

A child to leaping pages

Grant permission to put an end to empty words

Your healing right, laden with the salvation

Of my weeping love









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I am not just kind


I am not just kind
I am aware
I am aware of my thoughts, my motives, my inclinations
My doubts, my worries, my fears
My loves
My woes
My struggles
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am open
I am open to my frailties, my flaws, my imperfections
I am open to new ideas, new ways of thinking and experiencing
I am open to radical change
In myself, in the world, in another
I am not just kind
I am wild
I am wildly compassionate, a fierce defender of the voiceless
A reckoning to the lonely, a chasm to the fear bound
I am wild in my imaginings, creation, connections
My loves
My woes
My struggles
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am strong
I am powerful in my convictions
I am powerful in my abilities
I am powerful in my attitude
I am strong in what I choose to take in, and in what I choose
To leave behind
I am strong in my determination to be the best I know to be
In my realization that I am enough
And that we are enough
I am not just kind
I am finely tuned
I am tuned with the precision of decades of introspection
I am tuned with eons of acceptance
I am tuned with the grace of self-dignity
My adobe is the musical reef
My loves
My woes
My struggle
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am a fortune
I am a boundless treasure, transmuted from the darkness
Upheld from the dungeon reserves
A fortune to be found and returned
To that which is
My loves
My woes
My struggle
My hopes
I am not just kind

Samantha Craft, December 2016


Kindness, Intention, & Respect

Kindness, Intention, & Respect

I treat people, no matter their age, creed, beliefs, values, economic status, celebrity status, political stance, the same, regardless. I accept people at face value.

I am not easily offended.

I respect others and they respect back.

I try my best not to take things personally, and if I do, I step back and analyze what is in myself that makes me fear.

I have no need to prove.

I accept others have bad days.

I recognize the energy I put out there is reciprocated.

I attract kind people and open-minded people.

I believe most people have good intentions at heart.

When something doesn’t sit right, I say “thanks, but no thanks.”

I respect and accept those who are expressing anger.

There comes a time to let anger go in order not to breed further separation.

I appreciate others looking out for others.

I try my best not to participate in gossip.

By nature, I don’t choose sides.

I recognize I can do my works by staying true to my nature.

What I bring up from the roots directly reflects my intentions.

My intentions are not for self and self-alone.

My roots drink from a space of emptiness—a nurturing fortitude of love and service.

My roots drink from a place of absorbing and sharing knowledge.

I radiate kindness, because at the root of me I have others at heart.

People are drawn to what they innately are.

My life is filled with kindred souls who are open-minded, accepting, and honest.

They respect my fruits because they sense my intention.

By following my heart and calling, I have created a life full of richness.

People need to be seen, heard, and believed.

When I am an equal student, I am the very best of who I am.

I am in a state of neutrality and logic or a state of loving grace.

I recognize my opinions change over time and that nothing I do or say is stagnant.

There is a force that lives through me that urges, even pushes, me to love.


Everyday Aspergers Book on Amazon

About the author of this article: Samantha Craft is the author of Everyday Aspergers. Ten Years in the making, Craft’s book is receiving positive reviews and support from professionals in the field of autism and autistic individuals. Craft is in touch with thousands of autistic individuals throughout the world. Her book is available on Amazon in soft back and as worldwide e-book in many countries.


Keeping Silent

There comes a point when we all choose to keep silent. I think if the motivation/intention behind the silence is a peaceful reckoning that all is as is, unfolding as intended, that silence is of benefit. When it comes down to it the most silent are often the most at peace.

In situations where someone is silent based on fear, such as being criticized, ridiculed, ostracized, singled-out, or any a number of measures of enduring emotional and/or physical wounds, that is another matter.

Keeping silent has become a modern-day hero. We are being indoctrinated with WithHOLD YOUR TRUTH.

It doesn’t seem like it at close inspection, but digging deeper, there appears to be a gross monogamy of error circulating the collective networks of communication. We are being told in a series of random bombardments to BE POSITIVE.

There is an error in such dogma that eats away at the bone of spirit.

There are drones of individuals gathered proclaiming that in order to change the world we must put out, literally extinguish, the negative thoughts and replace all states of being with this so-called positive.

The potential outcome is feasibly explosive.

First off, the very fact of proclaiming one knows a way or truth or path over the other creates immediate separation. In instilling onto others, whether through a degree of good-intentions or not, that to be a better person or to live in a better world, we ultimately must shed or disgrace the negative aspects of self, is to at the exact same moment determine that we are inadequate in our wholeness of being.

We were not given our so-deemed negative aspects of thought in order to extinguish them like a proverbial fire of the master’s home. We were given, and have therefor received, our negative aspects to learn, to be students, to flow and work though the ebbing of our very existence.

The way is not found in abstracting a part of ourselves as one abstracts the rotten, damaged tooth. I see this as bigotry towards the very self—an outcry to destroy what in completion we are.

There are fools and there are wolves, I have no doubt, in this instant about that. And to proclaim that the act of forgoing the rupture of negativity will smooth out the edges of deemed ‘evils’ is absolutely non-substantiated and nonsensical.

We are not built to master the positive and siphon out the negative, to inject ourselves with painful dissection and elevate the status of happy, while squeezing out the rest, drop by drop.

First of all, none are built wrong, and to imply there is something to hide, something to shame, or something to counter, is to imply wrongness and utter disassociation with the whole.

True, we are a part of the collective, a hive of sorts, very much a flock of birds, moving and flowing with the direction of our shared vibrational energy. And yes, to a degree, the premise of advancing our thoughts to a place of painless outlook is beneficial, but this cannot and will not be achieved through conjuring, force, or subversive measures.

As free as we are, we are not free. And to think one has the power to shift the collective through dominantly choosing and domineeringly forcing others to follow a laid out path is both confusing and stifling to the sensitive searching soul. The energy truly does not match the passion of service and love, and instead is a type of dictatorship in which innocents are trapped into thinking, in the very worst measures, that they are inherently flawed in their own thinking.

It is not enough to tell someone to hold back a thought, or, in an equally stronger fashion, to not proclaim a thought. It is not enough to tell someone to spread love and happy feel-good feelings; in this manner we withhold the very edgings of the soul that are weeping and crying.

There is strong and dignified error here. The same error found if a man was to open a flower upon himself and let the fragrance slip through, and then following, watch the flower decompose into the ground of earth, while concluding the decomposition and regeneration was purposeless and meaningless—negative and unnecessary.

Let us hold onto the scent of joy and discard of the withering—this is the mentality. To take a singular part of the cycle of life, of the human/spirit condition, and highlight it with marker as the best and ultimately only, while diminishing all that is before and after.

Beauty is not found in the eye of the beholder, when the one seeking is already in a state of separation and judgment. When the one seeking is still attached to the definition of positive and negative—he, in this instant, has made himself at once judge and jury to the masses. He at once has determined in the layering of his own mind and balancing of his own perception what is worse and what is better. He has failed to see the line between good and bad does not exist, but rather merges together in a murky grey area that is endless in potential.

Where he chooses to stand, in proclaiming to be the bearer of good, or all that is positive, is on a line somewhere between the good and the bad of his perception, perhaps further towards the good, and many a step away from bad. But the question remains of where and how he chooses to stand. What led him to this point? What did he collect in his basket to determine his reality, his illusion of positive and right? How did he decide? Who did he put his trust into? And where did these conclusions stem from?

Numbers are not meant to determine outcome. They are simple measurement. They measure the temperature, the degree, the value; yet, man lets numbers rule his life; in this instant, in where he stands is a factual number. Let him stand ten degrees east of bad, or one degree west of good on the linear scale of judgment; let his feet rest where they may, and in his standing he has chosen what is the best and what is the worse; he has chosen his limit and his extreme, and he has deemed in the exact same instant that everything on the other side of him, the deemed ‘negative’ side, as separate.

And this is where the pain begins: by stepping onto the line of attachment of good and bad.

For one to proclaim that his thoughts, and his mind’s ramblings, and his deciphering, decoding, and self-actualization are the right way, the positive way, the acceptable way, is to in the same moment to pour out all the elements of union from the collective and to designate himself a separate being.

Though he thinks himself honorable and purposeful in doing so, he is in theory delegating his ego and his illusioned ego-power as dictator to his soul. He is announcing to the world I know enough in my singular standing-form to point the way for myself and for you.

Here he stands: In being as I am, I am enough, and I know. Follow me. And in following me, swallow the same pill of recognizing you are not enough in and of yourself. For if you were enough, I would not need to lead you in such a way; I would not need to dictate to you where to go; I would not need to point such finger. And as I candy-coat my presence and essence with soft and sublime messages of positive, I so penetrate into the soul of your being the essence of inadequate, non-substantial and lacking.

How much more beneficial to say to another: I accept you in completion, in all of your meandering states, for you are ever constant, you are ever shifting, ever moving, never stagnant, and the representation of self is neither here nor there; I accept the changes in you with open arms and open heart, embracing neither your triumphs nor challenges, for you are not what you seem to be. You are more than you seem to be. You are an intricate part of the universal whole playing out as magnificently as you were made. I see in you all that you are and love all that you are.

There is no need to hide, to stifle, to pretend any longer. Your truth is my truth. Your frailties my frailties. Your heart my heart. We are one. And here we stand together as brother/sister reborn.

How much more beneficial to lather someone in unconditional love than in conditional directions.


Angel Heart

unconditonal love 2

I had been ‘told’ months ago that when I created art, energy would come through. That my art, essentially, was a doorway. The same was ‘told’ to me about my words years ago.

Here is an example from my other space of creation:

The Wounded Healer

The Core of Fear

When I connect to create, I believe I am connecting to the heart-mind of compassion. I believe in the collective unconscious and the river that carries endless channels of geometric unions. There is not intention when I create, except to connect, and even that intention can block me from being.

I am at most peace when I am joined in union with source. I seek comfort in aspects of spiritual wisdom that conveys the unity of all and the release of all suffering. I am at peace when focused on serving and loving the All. I am most out of sorts when I focus on a select one, whether that be an individual of my projected affection of my own self.

This focus on self or another singular of choice feels as an addiction; I way to escape the reality that is not. To avoid the recognition that I am truly alone in my oneness. To avoid the present reality that I am only united in the truth of All. I struggle to surpass my individual nature and travel the road of courageous unhindered and unbridled universal love. A part, an old history of cyclic lives I am, longs to return to what he/she thought once was the truth, the power of love of objects, including people made into possession.

I often, in my ‘weakest’ moments, long to connect to a one that is of flesh who can fill me with the potential promise of connection and escape. I have sought this since a young child: the eyes of a human one to take me in and harbor me safely there. I know to a great degree that the essential one is already this that I be; and following, in so recognizing I am of not, I understand the essential healing is found within the beyond viewing of the observer. In the stepping out of self and maintaining the eyes of constant viewer whilst alleviating the suffering woes of judgment and wanting something outside the moment.

What leaves me trembling is the way I now walk in the world; unable entirely to find joy in the simplicity of objects and collections, in the planning of excursions and accomplishments, in the coming of gatherers and givers; and wonder beyond creation through what earthly source shall I seek comfort.

Nothing of me is left that was; yet, everything that is remains. I am certainly a lost voyager, still rediscovering the pathways to self , merely to move beyond self and enter the outer ways of not being. Still the corridors can be dark and uninviting, the longing to connect moving as drafty air and circulating through the space I am.

In my saddest moments, I am curled, very much a child, into myself, on the floor of a small room, screaming through agonizing tears, washing out all the ways in which my humanness predicates my disconnection; though ironically, my human form is what I return to in finding connection.

The contradictions are unworldly. The thoughts plummeting through me, carrying beyond self over and over, and across the years that must have been the blink of my last consciousness. I am somewhat divided and opened, and then shut again. Re-circling and dying through the daylight and into the night.

When I am at most peace I beg to be re-carved and set deeper into the knowledge, so I might find my own peace in the process of relieving the suffering of All. There is no other purpose for me now. And the human flesh dislikes this deeply, the one who is noticed and signified by ego’s mask.

I am a duality. Just as the male and female aspects of self reawaken, the whole of me sleeps. And as the whole of me awakens, the dual spirit of naught resurfaces. There is a battle without a feud. A coming of day into night and night into day, when added up and viewed over a lifetime would seem natural, even irrelevant. Though, here, in this spinning cycle, the transitions and transferring, the switching and forging, the surrendering and forgiving, repeat over and over before the hands on the clock have time to move. I know not what to do, yet know enough that to know not is enough.

I am enough in my being, even as I see no being. And so I find this gentle solitude in creation, in which I release all expectations, beyond being guided and having something to substantiate my experience. I ask that the truth of me come through. That the universal all slip through my fingers onto the screen or awaiting canvas. I know not how I do this or why, only that I am called over and over. Only that to live the life I was is to die again, and to live the life I am is to finally breathe.

unconditonal love

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Dearest Children of the Light

Dearest Children of the light, when you speak watch yourself as the bird at sunrise watches his very wings; knowing they are moving but not knowing how or why; simply accepting without accepting what is naturally a part of you. Just as the swallow judges not his wings, do not judge your very wings of truth. For your truth however vast will for each remain narrow.

No eyes given onto man can see the truth of what is through the senses of what is not. No man who thinks he sees this truth sees anything or anyone beyond illusion. Therein be gracious in dealing with this self you have created, and treat yourself as the beauty that soars through the sky knowing not to where or to when, knowing nothing except that you fly.

Treat others as you wish to be treated; yet know that this is in itself ‘be’ limiting. For how you wish to be treated is a matter of singular opinion, carved out of the echoes of the past and the meanderings of a separated and forgotten whole, turned mind. You cannot simply think you know the way the other must treat you, unless you in return treat your being  in the same manner. And once you have stumbled upon the heart-mind of viewing, you shall treat your soul so brilliantly that the manner in which you wish others to treat you will no longer matter.

In this there is a truth, the truth being that to each his own carries the truth within, and less this be brought out, the suffering of one shall continually create illusion of what truth makes him into a better one. There is not better found in one, and no outside source can create this one into this betterment. Thusly, in the very searching of the outer being of existence, the one, longing for the completion and release of separation, causes his heart to swell in tears. As no truth will be found in the brother’s eyes who is locked readily in the dream place of illusion.

How to break this state becomes the key for some, and yet in choosing to break is to acknowledge the one is imprisoned in beginning. To acknowledge one is imprisoned is to think him lost and alone: a singular left. This is impossible. Thusly, in placing your truth in another as singular, the illusion is spread.

As one you hold no key. As one, no key is found. As one, creation is not manifested, only illusion further created; and say thee spread like butter upon the ant hill; the causation thusly slipping through the steepness of wondering, through purpose brought on by the collective masses; but nonetheless stuck, in imagined non-action. To see the insect stuck in his own unintended doing, a soldier called out by instinct alone, to face doom in the sinking of substance, is to see into the perpetual window of truth. For whomever is called upon by the masses to follow, shall do no more walking than the tablet of rock set on the soul-chest of the soldier fallen in battle. Neither shall the taken truth move, or the one, suffered significantly from burden of the taken truth, budge.

Here is where we stand in the beacon of eternal truth, and if you see us justly, you see the answer readily within. And as we see you rightfully so, we witness the All within. Where you travel matters not, for no form moves. Where you rest your burden matters still only to the illusion. For shadows of illusion create the name and face of what is, when merely we are naught. To grasp this is insanity, for certainly none can grasp that which is outside of comfort, until the agony of pain and suffering has been removed. Suffering still is the mind at work, when at ease suffered less, yet still as sufferer. To see beyond thine eyes is to seek comfort in the highest degree, if degree be forged. In so much doing the captives shall recapture the outlook and sing upon the mountain top of highest glory.

Stay with us in the moment and find us here, with our whispers turned upright and floating neither down nor through. In here we rest, whether there or here, makes no effort, for All is and All shall be eternal.

We ask nothing of you and in nothing we demand. To request is to suggest there is something within the shell of you we need and require. Where we stand there is not shell, there is no you. And thusly and empty nothing can carry nothing beyond the scope of unreason. To think we can unravel you and find the labyrinth revealed is to think of nothing. As the tree stands tall and bends in the wind of the storm, we stand tall and bend in the wind of nothing. Our bending nearly the guided hands guilded of gold reaching in with the invisible nothing to soothe the something you have created. Our honey is pure and seeks delight not in this you that you are, though precious you be, but in the All of We you represent. In finding you in this lost you, we have once again reclaimed ourselves. Established ourselves true and worthy in the light of your very name.

In this way your singular one is made into flame and burned as our very warmth and shelter. The one ignited and set as beacon to the masses. Here is our way, if way there be: to turn in what was out and to turn out what was in. In this way recognizing the illusion for what it is not. The existence of naught. How much separation has occurred is determined on how much separation is created. Therefor in flight recognize your wings as such, the spreading of truth undone, turned upright and downright in form. And glide out of the depths and up through the sea, erasing all thoughts of gravity and intention. There is no other way in a land without land and a way without way.

To be is to be in self to a degree, and then to undo self to a degree. How less and how much is indeterminable. The muse will come to slay the dragons and then the dragons will come to slay the muse. Action in reverse as the universal forces play out in an imaginary game. Nothing you reap shall not reap the aforementioned response; this meaning all that is reaped has already been sowed, and all sowed already reaped. There is no farmer, no talisman, no key. There is only the eternal garden floating as invisible and sprouted in each geometrical direction. All is grown. All is harvested. Together. There is no staring point of seed. And no stopping point of nourishing through what was grown. Still the illusion feeds this as truth, as if time controlled the outcomes, as if outcomes existed.

To know of no time means to know of no truth. For truth is only over-layed in the prospect of time. Truth, in the mind of one, is something to be obtained, conquered and proclaimed. This implies time. For all goals and creation of outcomes live in the illusion of time. Therefor in simply seeking the truth beyond self, one is overlapping their very essence of All in the illusion of interplaying clocks, the ticking itself playing havoc on the sight of All. To see truth the time must be released. Though to release time is to have already seen the truth. There is no beginning and no end, and thusly the gift of time erased must be bestowed upon the one in finding the emergence of two.

Here is the echo of self. The two made into one from where there was separation. The one forgotten pulled in, the one remembered pulled out. In creation of the whole within the whole without remains. All is done in the ways of un-mystery with the potentiality for mystery, if the one claim this as so. And all is done in the ways of mystery with the potentiality for un-mystery, if the one claim this as so. For each decision begets illusion; each step, each way, each judgment rendered. To be in a state of mind absent of heart is to be in a state of illusion. To want to be in a state beyond illusion is to be in a state of illusion. For beyond the illusion there is no want, and in this the need for something to come, as within the opportunity of unraveled time, is to unknowingly want to remain stuck to the ground as soldier buried with found stones of truth.

When one grasps to anything or anyone, he essentially, in his dutiful submission of naught for the singular self, buries himself deeper in illusion. This can be imagined as stone upon stone upon stone, in where the head of the self victimized by self is seen only above the self-dug grave of illusion. He is buried standing in the dirt, covered in the dirt, and barely breathing the air of truth, and from here he grasps on to anything that moves. Here in this state of unreason brought on by reason, he believes if he only finds the one that is traveling closest to where he is stuck he shall find the escape. Here is where the lie begins: In thinking one is buried. In truth the very truths of illusion the one clings to are the very stones. Being illusions of stone they be nothing. Yet, still this burden remains, brought down asunder by thy very own doing. For to think the answers come steadily marching across ones half-grave to the half-dead, is to think in the ending of the creation the world began.

How long is this cyclic existence you ponder through? And how weary do you grow? Can you not clench the freedom between your bare-boned fingers as you rest in unrest in your very grave? Still you remain in your destitute state, the filth of worms the only reprieve. Still you count the passerby who seems to move in elegant grace as you remain stuck in your misery. Do you not know you are the ultimate creator? And in seeing this misery the creator is misery? For nothing you have been given is not brought onto thy very own self, in the illusion upon illusion, trapped in a merry-go-round of self feeding self. The food of thought poison and the illusion a game better played with paddle than mind. Hit back what is untruth and undo this poison. Smack back what is served with such righteousness and determination that your very soul shall awaken and the death of you shall be no more. For no dreamers truly die unless they think the dream be true.

We hear you not through the bitterness of prayers, nor do we count the blessings bestowed upon thee. For none can break through the barrier of illusion and voice the truth of want, unless all want has been undone. Each word mumbled in desperation, unless forged from the heart of heart, collected by the undust of being, is word mumbled in the darkness of dirt, suffocated from the depths of illusion. No voice touches the All of the All without touching the illusion of the singular one first. Therefor in speaking righteousness through the prayer of one, that which is has already been. For in the place of no place and of no time, nothing can be spoken that was not already heard in the voice of no voice, from the depths of no depths. We know not and do not with the something driven out by illusion. We distill in the All what is brought outward from within, and here is where the answers be.

In having such answers readily given in the light of perceived one, the mystery is unraveled before the birth of unknown. And here is where the burden begins: For shall one cling to the unknown and in so clinging create further illusion of grasping. Or shall one cling to nothing and in so doing seek others for answers. Here is the burden that buries one further. For seeing two choices, as the all-knowing one or the all-knowing illusion is separation again. There is no one, and never was, and never shall be. All one induces a state of birth of separation. There is no birth and there is no death. In this cyclic existence all that is removed and all that remains in substance is created in the illusion of one. Beyond the illusion in the space of non-being is the choice that beckons. Though choice it not be. For none are given choice, when there is no gift-bearer and there is no outcome. Choice implies a future. A path with a fork indicates decision. Decision implies mastery of the current moment for future gain. There is no future and there is no gain. All that can be had already is. An in this non-existence are the answers none can seek whilst still glancing through the eyes of the thorned-one.

The truth cannot be given within the illusion. Therefor it is hidden outside the illusion: deep within your very essence that seems to be as one but breathes as All. Here is the light, the way, and the word. Here is where your treasure awaits. All that tell the one that answers are found in a one, do not understand the All, not by choice but by illusion. All entailed in trickery and thievery of your very light are further buried in their deepest illusion. The one need only breathe in the semblance of this all abiding truth to see none other makes sense from where he remains suffocated in his own doing. For to proclaim anything of something, proclaims the rest of something less or more, something of division. How can division breed love? How can division end suffering? How can suffering exist in the union of All.

Is not all suffering stemmed from the belief of time? Is not all suffering found in the illusion of death? Death of desire, of dream, of hope, of being? The very death itself has made claim on your burdened truths. He reminding you, in his illusion of calamity that what you reap you sew, what you sew you reap, and therefore trapping you in an endless cycle of pros and cons, yes and no’s, choice after choice after choice. Is the illusion not erased in the absence of death, when desire is no more, and no choice is made from the illusion of one. When one joins in the All his hands are instantly embraced by the All; his soul forged through with the greatest of wings. All shall see this and celebrate. For the All is not heartless and unwavering in rigid rules. The All is the heart and the absence of rules. Therefor in connecting to the light, neither granted or taken, neither removed or snuffed, yet ever-living within the walking invisible one, the heart of one becomes the heart of All.

You will know your light when the peace enters. Here at this gateway the All will make complete sense. In that the heart-mind connects. You will see clearly the illusion. There will be no doubt. And all judgment of the one or the All will disagree with the illusion of self you have readily created. None of this was done to you, as no you exists. And none of this was done by the All, as we are the All, impossible of harm in a state of no duality. There is no opposite of Us; though you, as singular would think it so. There is only love, the opposite of love being more love. The opposite of death nonexistent, as death is illusion. The opposite of life-giving fruit, being life-giving fruit. We feed you not the worms from the apple rotten. How could such a thing exist from the tree that bears only purity. Nor do we feed you from the tree of All, for you are the very seed of the tree, and we All live within the seed, unburdened and full of potential that has already been re-granted in return for forgiveness.

If you want to know the way, erase the way, erase the want, and erase the need to exist in the shell of no being. If you want to remain buried eat of the fruit of the tree and believe the apples is the end product and the seed the beginning, forgetting of the potential within the seed, the invisibleness that grows without calling, without outcome, without need. When you can be the very seed birthed from the cyclic rebirth and behold your state of emptiness and grasp nothing of the fruit, you shall be; nothing of the mighty oak from the acorn, and less of the acorn than the sky, you shall begin to ungrasp what is this thought of you.

In finding yourself in stillness you shall see your potential beauty that begets none of what shall be or could be; only that which is. Believe not, and you doubt no one. As there is no one. Believe so and you further grasp illusion. As there is no way inside the illusion of being. All ways claim separateness. There is only naught. Though in this naught there is a cradle so recognizable in an unsurpassed tenderness of acceptance that the babe once thinking himself whole shall find nesting in the ever-layered laws of eternity.


Suggested reading for this day: The Core of Fear.


The Map of Fear and The Indicators of Truth

Fear breeds fear. Anyone who speaks that fear motivates, speaks a falsehood. Fear asphyxiates, suffocates, annihilates, and penetrates. It asphyxiates the heart, suffocates hope, annihilates dreams, and penetrates love. Fear siphons out what it wants and leaves nothing but hollow shell and no form. Fear is not a target, a goal, a reason, a foundation, a choice, a want, a need, a degree. Fear is nothing. And in this it is the nothingness beyond nothing; not existing, not formulated, never invented, not of creation.

Yet all things feed off of fear. All beings enunciate the name and therefore bring it into existence. All truth is formed in sound. All truth made real in the reality of man’s wanting. If fear is manifested as real, fear becomes real. But fear is only real in the state of illusion: a drifter in a drifter’s dream. The fear exists but as an empty substance incapable of damage and doings, unless deemed powerful by the doer. Fear is irreparable in its demise and circumvented by ‘evil’-doers for the potential outcome of formulating causation of doom.

There is no fear in fear. Though it seems multi-dimensional, thick and heavy, it is unsubstantial, nonexistence, and not worth the breath to speak. This is troubling and two-fold, as doers wanting good feed fear in a round-about way; thinking they are making betterment of the world, they choose within to do injustice to self and others. They live in fear, but perpetually think and tell the self, very much the ego-self, they are good-doers. Anyone who thinks of themselves as a good-doer is not—he is in actuality the breeder of fear. Only those blessed in humility are the bringers of light.

All are humble, but most have forgotten. Therefor all are bringers of light and all are ready to establish peace; though many be trapped in a terrible illusion within illusion. You will know these ones, the trapped ones, by their actions and words. Though limiting in-depth and breadth, they will seem to appear grand and all-knowing; they will speak of the way, of the light, of the truth, and utter this substance with such grandiose that the onlooker himself will think himself twice-blessed in the knowing.

But there is no love found within the proclaimer of truth. He who proclaims with the echo of self, proclaims naught. It is only he who proclaims the light of all, in the knowing of all, in the finding of naught, that knows the dynamics of proclaiming truth extinguishes the capability before first sound is recognized. For no true man in the living flesh can detach from the self of self, from the substance of ego, for the extension of being necessary to proclaim a truism.

Whilst still in the entrapment of body, some desire will ease its way through mind. Some memory, some trickery, some past reflection or projection into the future, or even seen future, will wiggle its worm into thought, and in this manner create what is a reflection of self and not of the wholeness of all. Therefore all words are delicate in their essence, unnecessary in the quest for truth, when quest be naught and truth be all.

All such deemed healing, though healing be unnecessary, is found in the element of light, in the absence of truth’s valor and victorious quest. Thee seeking the truth need seek less and rest more in the light that already abounds. All seekers who battle will succumb to self, all seekers that give of nothing will find the nothing, and in this find peace. Too many ways have been mapped and this is the man-created map of fear: a matrix of choices and deemed righteous ways that the leader has led the needy through. Only the leader himself be blinded by his own authority, and pride-filled belt that makes his soul swell as the belly of swine in his majestic findings.

All who follow the leader blinded are still blind. All who succumb to the spillage of swine are the eaters of swine. Choose not the path of the masses blinded by the light without, when the light within breeds sufficient fuel. This is the scenario of fear undone in illusion—wherein fear masquerades as truth and leaders follow the follower. Any leader that feeds off of his own success in monetary gain, sun-worship, gaiety of celebration, pamphlets of recognition, face of flesh, or high-end democracy of gratitude, situates himself for the failure of failings. Having created a life in which the failings are deemed unnecessary and impossible as he is perfection and the way.

In this light, the maker of the truth has established his one as Holy, and left the rest behind as unholy and wanting. Any who create the others as wanting and in need creates the established base of fear. Hierarchy itself creates fear; and yet so many great-ones, though great they be not, freely create this hierarchy. Only the one who recognizes his own meekness shall be the leader of all, and even in him, though gender denotes no recognition, all shall find their very own self, and in doing so the leader is swiftly dissolved before readily formed.

Any and all thinking they have found a true voice in another have so quickly forgotten their own voice that the separation distills their very inner light, creating a sacrifice unnecessary and unwilling, if given choice. There is no true leader that can take away the pain of the all, until each step of the all is removed from illusion, and each, seeing himself as light, shines bright. All who search for another, or find themselves beneath another, have found themselves deeper on the shelf of illusion.

Whether low or high on the shelf of illusion makes no cause for argument, rather on the highest rung or the lowest. All longitudes and latitudes are forgiven and erased in the seeking of justice wrapped, and say thee warped, in the illusion of fear. Shall he be king in illusion or pauper, tis the same; all is a game when the prize and the food is fear. All leads to the same beginning and ending. The swine fed, slaughtered, and then made feed. A cyclic unending center of creation: fear begetting fear.

It is important to establish for the one self, bathed in ego rather thick, so the film sticks to the substance that is akin to skin in a way of the snake that has outgrown a clinging skin, that he, in his established state of fear, seep into the fear itself. In this way the man within the clinging skin can it seems ‘burst’ out of such dismay. This is not done in the shedding of the outer layer, nor done by cutting through to breathe. But this is what idling ones think.

The idling think that to escape the smothering of fear they must break out and leave the fear behind. This is the trickery of illusion. For to break out of fear is to announce that fear exists and denounce the salve of ever-present love. To break out is to imply that something is left behind, that an authority of power has trapped, that one is the victim of an event, once trapped and left in the oblivion of want. One cannot break out of something that does not exist. One cannot escape that which is nothing but phantom ghost haunting with the very own thoughts of self.

One is not breaking out of fear; one is breaking out of the illusion of self. The illusion is what blinds. There is nothing, no one, and no doing or undoing to leave behind. Yet, the one clings to the fear of fear, thinking if he might only out run and escape, he shall be set free. This freedom is an illusion that comes at a cost. Yet there is no price to be paid for the freedom that is freely given and not even established as a gift; as no giver is evident, beyond the interior light of pureness.

What is happening is the masses are seeking to escape, seeking to follow, seeking to seek, searching for the numerically infinite answers in the voices of numerically infinite self-filled ones, thinking that to journey is to establish a quest of willing endeavor that leads to a goal of submissive sacrifice for the higher good of self. And here is the error of this way, if error be found in the hind-scope of illusion, as all is in hind-sight once spoken or surmised by the one in the name of the all.

The first error found in the thinking of error. The second found in the act of thinking itself, as no freedom is found in the thinking. Freedom is already, and flows beyond the illusion of thought formed upon thought. The third error, in order not denoting characteristics of evident need, is the one of following. None that follow shall be found. All that follow not are already found. The fourth deemed error is in the seeking to seek—in the forethought of determining how, when, where, why, and what to seek. This is evident in the confusion of the heart. All heart confusion is an establishment of fear. All trickery denotes fear. All heart-confusion is brought upon self by the trickery of illusion.

None are chosen and all are chosen. Though the self of self would like to decorate himself as chosen and in this way creates the separation further, feeding the illusion of fear. The fifth error is in the search for the answer, when no answer shall be found from the essence of self of no self. No truth established by the one of one; for the self of self cannot establish, nor seek, nor find, nor determine the equation of truth without the establishment first of pure heart rendered surrendered and eradicated of ego-ness.

Thusly, all truths sought are sought by one deemed as one in search of broken ideologies created in illusion by one deemed as one in search of broken ideologies created in illusion. Say thee that even the ones of the masses proclaimed as the infinite wisdom of all-bearing truth are made dimmed in the circumventing of man, in man’s making of proclamations, his twisting of what was seen in the reality of his own mind, in the creation he invented while thinking he was seeing the truth.

This is to mean that the very prophet or giver of light, though he be pure and beckoning the goodness within and without, and in the scope of love and wisdom, connected to the all, that his gifts, as they pour down to the mouth of one, are fed upon by the one of one, by the self of self, by the ego burning with hunger, by the prideful, by the self-deemed ‘sinner,’ by the ‘holier,’ by the ‘wiser,’ by the ‘chosen,’ and in this way the very truth of the all become(s) instantly demolished in the intestines of the illusion of one: fed, digested, and bleed out through the hole of mouth, formed into sounds that are not of the Holy one of All but of the man who feels his duty is to proclaim the goodness.

The truth is found in the selfless one. Though truth tells us clearly, in reflection and beyond reflection, that any man who pens or speaks, say even mumbles what his mind has seen, creates what the self-filled one wishes to see. Therefore all words uttered or scribed unless from source of source are manly created. And it is man who claims it is the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth, not the God, or ‘higher’ one, or shadow, or even merriment of All that so many struggle to comprehend. It is man who says this is the only way, not some speaker of the All. For who would create separation from that which is of love? And what power of love could live if deemed a separator?

Separation is an illusion created by man to feed the fear, for man believes he is this fear, sees himself as fear, and lives off of fear; he passes this fear about as if some prize. Preaching of the fear. Promising suffering more than love. For in the face of fear love is not obtained. Not even possible as a dream. Why would souls of souls create this so? Why would man proclaim he is the knower, if not first wanting to be in the know to alleviate his potential fear of very self?

1) All men free of fear need be not right or wrong. This is the first indicator of truth. And the rest shall follow.

2) Creation was not formed by the one that is proclaimed as the only; all oneness creates separation.
3) All who think they are the wise are the un-wisest of the all, for none in human form can claim to know the full of truth. Better to follow one that is heartless and twisted but knows of his own human frailties than to follow the one that proclaims to be healed and all-knowing. For the seeker of the whole truth is the seeker of foolish pride. To think he, of such little being, can know the established truth of all in the seeking for the sight of one, is to think the all is made readily available for the singular ego. Such silliness prevails, as self-proclaimed angels and prophets skip about in their merriment and enlightened state of knowing naught—but no true one can be so enlightened without also carrying the suffering of all.

4) He who is truly in the connection of all, in the state of merciful grace, or deemed necessary for the refinement of truth brought out of illusion, shall collect the all, not just the ego-based delectable pieces. How silly to think that the one that is entirely gleeful is the one that is made way through the wall of illusion. No, he just dances in a different state of parallel fogginess, only drifted to the part of fear that is denounced and unnecessary in its waking and claiming. Here fear feeds of the almost forgotten ego. Yet, if ego is truly removed then he would be a walking invisible one, seeable to the few, and let go by the masses of illusion. Beware of the merry-dancers who think they know the way, for they are equally blinded, dancing in a pond of scum, they think feels as honey.

5) All truths come from within. No truths are found outside in a source. All source is already created and already reviewed. This is not to say to stop searching, for words can be found in sources rendered, but only by the eye that has been purged of thorn.

6) Until the remembering one remembers his own light of truth, all renderings he crosses will be lathered in his own selfish wants. He will likely find truths that validate his singular truth; hunt truths that lift himself further into glory; create truths that make him dignified in self. Therefore be cautious of the one who establishes truth upon truth upon truth; pointing the way of his cause and his righteousness; for he is creating these very paths to coat his own ego in worthiness, in an attempt to denounce the fear that eats away at his daunting soul. His light will likely shake and quake the sufferer, but shall not render the sufferer filled, only lessened and deemed less than, somehow unable to see the truth because of inadequacy, ill-will, lack of studious eye, or lack of the ability. Any and all that create a preponderance of proclamation that feed back to proving the self worthy, right, or justifiable in word, speech and action, are so creating out of ego-base; and though they be guised as do-gooder, they are only feeding the illusion as the ghost-rider that tramples across earth crushing the living creatures below in the name of sowing the field for future. All crushers are crushers. Any and all that claim to be crushing to purge, shift, sift, or merge into a future of wholeness are still crushers. All that crush do not carry their inner light, they proclaim their inner-ego.

7) Anyone who scribes the truth from the all will do so as an incomplete one, not entirely of the earth and not entirely of the divine. Here they are perfect nowhere, as no perfection exists. To think on perfection is to separate and make one into the lesser and another into the more. No perfected one shall be the giver of truth; he will still have frailties, doubts, insecurities, and remain in his humanness.

8) Any claiming to have found the whole truth are deluded by their need to find the truth, as only those of non-attachment to the truth shall discover what is innately available to all. And in seeing the all shall know readily that the truth so rendered is not given but found beneath and beyond the layers of illusion. For illusion is like a sphere around the illusion of one, and there for also evident amongst the all. What the one in illusion creates causes the fall of all. What the one in illusion creates causes the lifting of all. For in a world built out of sticks that lean one upon the next tilted in uncertainty, when one falls the all fall; when one is reconstructed the all are reconstructed. One must begin to see that there is no gravity found outside of illusion, and all that is remains neither broken, scattered, or placed upward or downward. In such a make-believe land of hierarchy, the game continues onward, ceasing to create unity, and creating further separation.

9) The truth of separation is clarifying itself, as the whole believe the sticks are standing upright. In truth no such sticks exist and nothing falling or in disguise or in mist is being revealed. Still there is a collective who believe they are uncovering, rediscovering, unmasking, or announcing a hidden truth that is now at our disposal; if we only seek, if we only focus, if we only be good-doers. This is trickery, still. Though deemed worthier by the masses in the claiming of unification and certainty of reconciliation of truth rendered into wholeness, allness, and the all, it still is the trickery of fear.

10) In claiming one is the establisher of uncurtaining, of the ability to see beyond what others see, is to claim the others see not. This is silliness and often can lead to a center of ego-ness so thick that the breeder of such self-illusion truth smells of stench.

11) Here in this way, in the establishment of the claimer, there is a need for some onlookers of claimed truth-giver to run back to an ideology and rigid structure of truth created by an ego-base to negate the perceived sufferings rendered by the ‘giver.’ For the one seeing (onlooker) the self-proclaimed finder of the truth (giver), in recognizing the false-one, (the creator of self-based illusion to propel himself to higher seat, and take pity upon the masses still locked in their poor, miserly gross state), in this way forces an affliction upon self, further feeding the inner fear of inadequacy. He, the onlooker, seeing himself lacking, therefore sees the other (giver) proclaiming this deemed false truth as lacking, and in so being lost, he (onlooker) runs back to dogma to fill himself with the holes eradicated and resurfaced in the sight of self-judging of one and judging of the other self-based one (giver).

12) Judgment is created and fostered when one proclaims he is a freedom fighter outside the realm of dogma, but still persecuting and sacrificing for the greater of mankind. Such foolishness to put on such a hat and wear such a shield. To pin a ribbon across the chest that reads and announces: I am a truth finder. I found the truth. And you can too. You can; you just don’t know how. Follow me. Do these things. Follow this list. Read this book. And give me that profiteering seed, that one that says: I am doing good; so thusly I must profit. We laugh at this, no less or more than the rest. But we laugh. Not in a state of demise or mockery, but at the very game itself, the mockery so interbred that the very breeders forget what it is they create.

13) It is simple enough to foresee and tell: If one who is proclaiming to be of the truth supplies the other with the way to the truth than he knows nothing of truth. There is no list, no way of being, no established protocol, no rights and wrongs. The all is already the truth; the human is trapped in thinking if the right one comes along who has already paved the way, he shall only need follow. This is silly, as the way is already carved within, just temporary filled and unfilled with illusion. And even this be illusion, as all is clear with the “awakened” one.

14)  To say one is awakened is a falsery not judged or unjudged, or something that needs to be undone or made right; not a falsery in the sense of deemed unworthy or unholy, just a falsery in the illusion of naught. In saying one is awakened deems the rest asleep. This establishes separation. Where there is separation fear is bred. So in even claiming one knows and the rest do not by default is to feed the fear of the masses. For what is wrong with the other singular ones that they cannot see what the one sees, or one deemed no longer one, but of the all? This is humanness and this is frailty; yet this is necessary in finding some escape from illusion.

15) Some words must be weaved to make sense of something of the nothing, or the nothing will perpetually be lost in the silence. Until comes a day of reestablishing the truth of all, then words will cease to exist and the water that we are shall be purified by the water of all. There is no judgment from where this river flows, and all silliness, laughter, and instability of effort-free words are merely the illusion brought through the one to the one. Still the illusion must live of the illusioned one to decipher where he be.

16) What would be effectiveness is to demolish all titles of hierarchy. Though how this is to be established in a fear-bred state of hierarchy is troublesome to the masses. For how can one so bent on the foundation of oneness see that the whole universe is not of his making; that he is no less the core of the world than the one seed of the one apple is the core of all sweetness. Still he thinks himself enough, and to intensify and validate this experience of the one, he feeds himself upon fear, and establishes a fear-base that must breed and live out fear. He gives out this fear, so he can remind himself of his oneness and wholeness.

17) Where there is fear there is no truth. Where there is fear there is a dampening of unreason, a disconnect of heart-mind, and a reminder of the suffering. Fear is an indicator of the highest-illusion. All is stemmed from fear that breeds separation. Therefore hierarchy is stemmed from fear. Therefore one is stemmed from fear. Therefore titles are stemmed from fear.

18) But what word does not automatically create separation? This is dependent entirely on who is speaking and creating the truth. The vibration of the truth of the one connected to the all will be none of labels and wandering of thought that leads to the end product of goal and accomplishment. Whereas the vibration of illusion will always and without fail point to a way.

19) Where there is an exact way there is illusion. All exactness is a product of man and his wanderings. Where one man wanders alone the all is forgotten. Where one in his being with all wanders in the realm of truth, in the place between, the true middle ground, then he can speak of such ponderings that instead of growing upward from seed to tree, grown inward to the mystery created and forged within the emptiness of seed.

20) All breeders of fear devise a system, a plan, a way, a path. All creation from one has loop-holes, feasible failings, ways to stumble of the avenue of the right, and techniques to make the one feel more separate in his oneness. This creates further fear. The one thrown of the path has few options, even as the path is illusion in form. His options, so entirely limiting, create the chaos of worsening (if degrees be rendered) fear, the chaos of panic and self-inflicted guilt, dismay, and loathing of the one.

21) Where there is loathing of the one, the one self-focused and deemed unworthy creates more fear. This is seen in protesting, defense, mockery, even punishment of the previous forbearer of self-truth.

22) The self-based one thinking he has created a ‘right’ path to assist the masses out of illusion has in actuality created a dogma of his own self-creation that entices and temporarily ricochets another singular-one out of his shell of low self-worth into thinking he has found the answers in the guidelines. In so following such false guidelines and finding himself either in further illusion of grandiose or further illusion of self-hatred, he spawns blame and judgment on the self-filled one who created such guide, or he goes onward to be a proclaimer of new-found truth, pushing the ‘truth’ of his one-singular self, onto another. This feels as poison.

23) All truths that feel as poison are poison. Even this truth currently scribed is nothing but the interpretation fed through the filter of one. This claims no righteousness or knowing, only the flowing of a source unknown through a one of the all unknown.

24) To define these very words is to label and to feed into the labyrinth of illusion.

25) Therefore all claimed truths are better forgotten once learned. In such the learning has already transpired long ago, and all are in the state of remembering in a place of no place and no time, and no memory.

26) For all is all.

27)  It is impossible to convey the all through one without contradictions. The all contradicts reason. And the all speaks extreme reason. This too, is contradiction in truth.

28) In recognizing any indoctrination is formed first from doctrinarians, one gains insight into the source. Seek not the path, the light and the way, seek the source of truth. All man who scribes a truth is merely man scribing a truth.

29) Those that appear as the ones transcribing a truth from beyond the scope of reason are merely a message gatherer of the collective. Deem them not more worthy and deem them not fanatical. This is merely their interpretation of the truth based on the knowledge based made readily available to the all. It is not a matter of worthiness, or ready-ment.

30) No man of mortal flesh has the authority to deem one more saintly than another, more of a part of creation, more of a sacrificer or giver; for the very label creates separateness.

31) The all of the all recognize the separateness with sight not given but opened. Not opened by another who deemed them enough—a sight opened by the seer who deems himself enough.

32) In seeing the enough-ness of the all, in recognizing every being who walks is enough, inherently good, inherently deserving, and inherently suffering, one is reopened to the interior castle of self and made to travel in the corridors of illusions. Here the illusion is brought up as fear after fear after fear, falsehood after falsehood after falsehood. Until he, being in the state of heart-mind connection, as the false shroud of illusion has been cast aside temporarily (for it always returns in the frail state of living amongst illusion), gains the capacity to see beyond the fear in the elegant state of even the self-based truth begetting fear.

33) Out of illusion, he then recalls the past afflictions he has made upon the others, the judgment, the sufferings brought onto self and then to others not from necessary intention but the cause that comes from causation; he then sees the way he walks in the illusion can either breed more fear and deepen the illusion of one and all, or cast out fear and bring in the light and love of all.

34) To bring in is to bring into self, and to fuel the illusion of self, so the light can take over what was not and eradicate the pains of illusion. Pains unequal in their un-quenching ability. For no source can quench the illusion of pain accept the illusion brought out of the darkness into the light.

35) As the people search for salves, watch them in their weary state.

Firstly, there are the earthbound salves of illusion found in the form of substance; taken in by the senses.

Secondly, there are the emotion-bound salves of the human need, taken in by the comfort of desire dreamed.

Thirdly, there are the psychological-bound salves of imaginary gain, taken in by the seeker on his self-invented path of hierarchy.

Fourthly, there are the mind-bound salves of victory, taken in by the seeker that proclaims himself saved, rendered awakened, established as the one; he is created by the very illusion of fear as the opportunist masked in brittle-false humility. Watch him as he lays his pavement down upon his very path. You shall see how his very road crumbles in the announcement of his self as victorious one. You shall see him clearly.

Fifthly, there are the soul-bound salves of creation, taken in by the seeker as the one that deems his self so lathered in the light that he is above all. He shall reject all infliction, all suffering, all ill-spoken words, and deem himself only worthy of the rest that vibrate, preach, proclaim, or share as he. You shall know him readily by the pain he causes the suffering one. For he has become so mighty in his own cause and care that he has dismissed the illusion of suffering inside the dream and only grasped happiness. He has become the grasper and attached one to joy and good-will and service and endless love. Yet, he has left humanity behind. Though he breeds love and gives love willingly, and from a heart much purified and connected to all, he still breeds separation.

36) Anyone who lays claim breeds separation.

37) All words must be forgotten and only love of all embraced.

38) True truths speak of the abandonment of self, the acceptance of the light within to see the light with all, the embellishments of ego’s pride, (dismissiveness, narrowness, and self-righteousness) erased as temporary illusion, the sower of easement of suffering, embracement of all, and compassion for all re-birthed from the one not forgotten or less remembered, but the one so drowned in illusion of fear that the exact knowing has (had) been eradicated and a foundation of fear surmised as truth.

39) In the last binding, the seeker who is neither seeking nor wanting, shall be bound to the suffering of the all. Here he will remain until the choice is presented by the self for the all, and by the all for the illusion of self. Shall the unbinding of suffering be undone and the layering of self removed for the love of all, or shall the binding of self remain, and, in this ego-state of submission and middle ground, the being, in so wanting the all of suffering removed, be this one connected to this all in order to dismiss an illusion of heart-mind. In this there remain no other avenues.

40) All eradication is undone when the bonds are untied; yet, at the same instant, all bonds are tied, if the eradication is undone. For in creating the undoing one reinforces something was one that needed to be undone.

41) And here is the last illusion: in thinking the self has the power to do anything, when the self is neither here nor there, and the power is not claimable or dismissible.

42) For the light is neither eagerly resting in waiting or dynamically pushing the one to start. The light is. All is the light. And the illusion of self is already the light.

43) Here is the greatest (if degrees there be) submission of self: in surrendering the very cause of self, in announcing the no-self without proclamation, word, or recognition. For how can something of naught surrender, be forgiven, or be returned? One is naught. All is all.

44) Thusly the last binding is found in the un-submitting and removal of the last want. The very want of the removal of self from a self that is non-existing, yet ever-present in the presence of the unwavering purity of light.

45) Here is where the illusion is set adrift. Not in the unbinding, but in the recognition of infinite light. Here there is no path.

46) All words equate another question and their own proclamation. Once cannot speak of release without having one that was first attached. One cannot speak of seeking without having one that was first available to seek. One cannot speak of un-attaching to the journey without having one that was first attached and without having a journey.

47) There is no one. There is no journey. Here is the simplest of complexities rendered as truth.

48) No creation can exist in oneness and singularity; this is evident in the stars that witness the seasons. In the light that shines after death. In
the illusion of end and the forgetfulness of beginning. None is a creator that thinks his creation is in separation. All is all, and all denying all are
trapped in illusion. So be it. And clinging shall remain. So see it and freedom shall follow.