Heavenletters

If there is no outside You, and I'm sure there isn't, then what is there to do but be? Forming ridiculous sentences like this one? Or intelligent ones, knowing ones, wise ones, helpful ones?

You are afraid of disappearing. Yes, yes, but that was only some failure of nerve and is about over now. Disappearing is okay now. Really, let's go. I'm tired of identity true or false, of Oneness and who is me or You or however anyone would like to put it, tired of truth and illusion and mining for them, of significant things, of Self-Discovery, of Essence, of old clothes and new, of hearing and not quite hearing, of being the Universe or anything at all.

There are moments of no thought, most beloved Author of Heavenletters, moments of wonder without anything to wonder about where absolutely nothing has to be a certain way and where words like essence or love or God would sound very funny indeed if they were possible there. You know that, of course. You speak or seem to be speaking on our behalf, and it's beautiful and I truly love You for speaking in a way that generates silence, whosesoever silence it may be.

You promised to take my thoughts and disintegrate them before my very eyes. All I needed to do was hand them over to You. I did and had to lean into Your promise only for a short while until Our silence began happening, and it's really worth more than all the tea in China. Life seemed pathless, and now the pathless turns out to be the path.

Perhaps it's Your country, perhaps it's an island, perhaps it's Oneness, I don't care. Free of thoughts, it's This. And This, it seems to me now, is the only thing worth having.