Thisness

This is always it.

Roaring tinnitus this morning in my now blocked, deaf left ear. My experience of the world is now temporarily different and yet the open awareness of it remains clear and unchanged.

A solitary lamp illuminating the corner of the room. Ringing, hissing tinnitus; shrill, clean and precise.

I am very lucky to have a job in which I spend most of the time in a state of flow. No distracting, pointless, discursive inner monologue. Someway, somehow my usual identity of self falls away and ‘I’ cease to do the work but instead am the work.

Noticing that which would otherwise have gone unrecognised.

This is neither special nor ordinary as these words are referring to that which defies all descriptions and labels.

The noise coming through the wall from next door is simply just that – sounds free to be sounds leaving no trace in awareness.

AE’s clear, bright eyes. Full of life lacking nothing but sight.

Each of us has our own story about death and grief but in the end that’s all they are. Distracting images and tall tales about everything but what is.

One fire unfolding as infinite flames.