BLANK PAGES
At the beginning of June 2016 I opened my journal to find 2 blank pages.
Pristine, blank, clear, beautiful in their simplicity.
I sat and looked deeply at these 2 pages with tears of joy in my eyes.
I wondered why they had such a deep effect upon me at this moment?
Perhaps it was the reference to the unknowable, the simplicity, the peace, the adventure that lay there.
I tried to put it into words, thoughts, feelings.
However, I discovered that me 'trying' to understand took away from the pureness of what lay before me.
That it was so perfect for me in that moment that I only needed to sit with it and embrace it.
To not do anything or understand anything or explain anything.
Just to be there.
And that in that being there was the wholeness in who I am.
Who I was.
Who I will become.
No effort.
No need.
No struggle.
To let go and become the blankness, the nothingness and the peace as all around scurries and protests and tries.
The next day I looked at them again and this time was moved to write:
Pristine, blank, clear, beautiful in their simplicity.
I sat and looked deeply at these 2 pages with tears of joy in my eyes.
I wondered why they had such a deep effect upon me at this moment?
Perhaps it was the reference to the unknowable, the simplicity, the peace, the adventure that lay there.
I tried to put it into words, thoughts, feelings.
However, I discovered that me 'trying' to understand took away from the pureness of what lay before me.
That it was so perfect for me in that moment that I only needed to sit with it and embrace it.
To not do anything or understand anything or explain anything.
Just to be there.
And that in that being there was the wholeness in who I am.
Who I was.
Who I will become.
No effort.
No need.
No struggle.
To let go and become the blankness, the nothingness and the peace as all around scurries and protests and tries.
The next day I looked at them again and this time was moved to write:
Blank Pages 23rd July 2016
Yesterday I opened my journal to find two blank pages. I hesitated to change the form.
I left them exactly as they are. Knowing that they are always there, always a foundation from which to start, commence, live from.
An open blank page. Feel like I'm back today.
Since then my life has continued as usual.
No loud bangs, no angels singing, no great mystical experiences, and yet, there's the sense that the ordinary things have become more magnificent.
I am more able to react to the stuff around me but stay in that still centre (mostly).
And, when I lose that centre, stray away from it, I can return more easily as I am aware (mostly) of it being ever present.
I recall it with more ease.
The nothingness that is, and will always be.
And underlying it all, for me, there remains the sense of joy I have refound.
A sense of well-being which sustains me and keeps me going.
Because, above all, there are 2 blank pages of nothingness amongst all this.
Where I can retreat and be blessed and nourished.
If, of course, I allow it.