Sunday Morning

This beautiful stormy Sunday morning, I went outside and bowed down to a holly berry on the tip of a twig. In that instant I attained the supremely perfect absolute bliss of eternal liberation, but only for a moment - just for the instant my forehead touched the ground. Then I bowed down to a poodle, a cat, a woman, a dead mouse, and a cup of coffee.
Good morning.

I think that's the way to enlightenment. It's not some eternity outside of time or detached from creation. It's bowing down to every creature in the world, every particle of dust, every pair of eyes, moment after moment.

Joy and sorrow, anger and peace, sleep and waking come and go. But what never comes and goes, what remains constant amidst the arising and dissolving of all phenomenon and feeling, what underlies the universe, is a presence of perpetual wonder.

Therefor, I can be happy or sad, angry or forgiving, dreaming or waking, but I can never be bored. I have too many occasions for astonishment.

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