Zorba the Buddha. One who is free to choose, and not to choose. One who does not have to be restricted by dogma. One who can appreciate all of life. Who can life the fullness of life. Who can open like a flower. A beautiful flower. And express it freely. Freely without a thought of judgement. So that you can express and feel good about expression. You can express without imposing. It is free expression without any thought of exposition.

It is not expression that does not cry “look at me! Look at how free I am. Look at how much I don’t care.” And it is not expression that unaware. That is like the giving fragrance of a flower that is not conscious. It is expression of beautiful dance and loving your beauty. It is loving your self. It is beauty without a name. The only label that could compare is love. It is sexual gestation beyond biology. A freedom from repression. Freedom from embarrassment. An attitude in which no one can affect you. Because there is no one outside of yourself. It is not to renounce all material possession. And not to be identified with the physical. Our being is in between. We live the middle life. We accept. And we deny. Freely. And according to our divine will.

Who else will feel this? Who else will I consult that is living? Who else is alive on this earth as I am? Where will I meet them? Why? And where, and when? I must learn. This I know. Who will guide me but myself? I could never be below another. I can never be above. But I know I am right. And I know that I can learn from anyone. All of the time. In any moment. I also know that there is limitless variation on this plane. And some things are worth paying attention to, and most are worth ignoring. So I do not have to wonder my fate. I do not have to wonder who, what, when, or why. I already know that my intuition will take me there. Just as it always has. My gut feeling takes me where I should go. I have followed, and I have paid attention, and I have been led to the light always. Just as I always have. Just as I always will. I leave it to God. I leave it to the divine will. I leave it to the light that shines. I leave it to the feeling in my gut.

My practice is meditation. That is all. Everything and every way to describe this bliss seems so complicated. But I know it is not. I feel that it is not. But the most simple things must be complicated. They most be described in the most complicated way. Other wise the truth would be unable to be revealed. This is why saying, “I am the light” is the most complicated way to describe truth. It is because it is so open ended. So metaphorical. It could talked about and talked about forever. For sentences and paragraphs, and books upon books on end. So knowledge of the self must be attained through practice. And practice is acheived through remembrance. Through meditation. We read and read so that we can better remember through different means in difference situations. As we practice methods in countless situations and times, the methods begin to fall away as the need to remember falls away. Things become more basic. Ignore thought. This is the technique. Is it complete? Yes. No. One replaces the other. But is is more basic. The devices more basic. The understandings, more basic.

How do I feel now? Like the most powerful person in the world. Like the reason for life. No that this must be why I am. But, this is why I am. There can be no other reason. I cannot conceive of the dark. And when I do. It is only as a mean to know the light. And in this way. There is no dark. I know that there never was. Will I fight forever? I think yes. But the fight will not be what can be conceived as a fight. It will be love.

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