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Pixels in space

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Sensations can feel dull in the morning
But a cup of tea helps

I meditate on the perception of light
To brighten the dullness and drowsiness.

Then go for a walk
Sun is shining
The sea choppy
Splashing over the sea wall
I went into a brief trance watching 
The constant state of flux
Always changing, rearranging, never the same.

Later in the day
The weather changed
The wind settled
and the sea was calm
The serene surface reflecting
The sky above with seagull wings
Like a translucent jewel
A massive opal.

But there was movement on the water still
A more refined change
The air quietly whispering gentle patterns on the water's surface.

A happy looking seagull paddles past 
Leaving a hypnotic trail of ripples in his wake
They emanate from his being
Across the liquid surface
Towards me.

I sit and meditate on a hill overlooking the bay.
On some dry grass beneath a yew tree in a disused park
Feels like I am sitting in some ancient ruins.
I sit upright and still
Imagine I am the Buddha
Till my foot goes to sleep
And then I laugh at the delusion.

Day turns to night
On this spinning orb in space
That seems perfectly still when you sit on it.

But it is spinning round a huge fiery orb
Which itself is spinning round a black hole.
Like an intergalactic game of snooker.

Is everything spinning?
Am I spinning?
What is everything made of?

These fractals

I become very still.
The breath stops.
And there's what feels like white noise.
Pixels constantly popping in and out of reality.
But where they pop in and out from is like a blank canvas.
An emptiness I can't see beyond.
Every part of the body is like this.
It's everywhere
This background noise
This cosmic vibration
this mysterious white noise
Beneath form

What is it?


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A wind that blows where it wishes

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Wednesday, 15 Mar 2023, 17:53

Tired I sit
In defiance of this mad world
And its empty shit.

Cut off
across my face.

What is the human race?
Why are we racing?
I want to stop.

There's a solitary shadow on my path
An ancient presence
Timeless me
This life, so transient
Nothing to cling to
Nothing substantial
We are alone in the end.
Separation is inevitable.

It doesn't matter if I'm with anyone.
I'll travel alone if need be.
Like a Buddha.
I can live free,
with no worldly ties.

Do no wrong
Like a sage in the wild.

Like the wind that blows where it wishes.

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Sea swirl, 
smash on path
air turbulently
picks up things
makes them dance
with playful icy fingers
that blow open my hood
Exposing head and neck
to ice chill blows
It is unpleasant.
But I endure 
retreat to a deep
sheltered place within.

The path changes direction
And now the wind is at my back.
I replace my hood and
The warmth feels pleasant
Soft touch of cloth flapping like wings.
As excited air blows all around me
Swirling puddles into
hypnotic patterns and shapes
A liquid reflection of how things change.

Seagulls hover above in perfect stillness
effortlessly flowing with the wind
weaving in and out of each other's paths
Masters of stillness in motion.

Permalink 2 comments (latest comment by Richie Cuthbertson, Saturday, 11 Mar 2023, 10:36)
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The air element
Beauty of sky
That childlike wonder
It disappeared
Sitting outside
Refreshing breeze
The cool 
Fills the Body with ease.
I am connected to the air
With every breath
But its presence is felt
Always changing
I watch as it moves through the trees,
Sweeps up leaves
Creates ripples on the water
And makes everything dance.

Photo of a seagull gliding on the air

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