For That Which Thou Hast Sworn To Do Amiss Is Not Amiss When It Is Truly Done.

All truth is relative. Every story, every system of belief is subject to disintegration if examined and deconstructed. Take anything, any notion, and ask, "is this true?" Can it be said to be true in every possible circumstance, every potential scenario? Every single thing that is what you've taken your life to be is an illusion, very tenuous in its existence; it is merely interestingly arranged energy. And existence, simple existence, is the only thing that cannot be deconstructed. This is the nub that so many seekers long to get to, as do we all, in so many interesting ways. These ways are the playground of existence. It's all very well, stilling thought, being present, seeing/being/knowing the true, unhindered nature of existence, unfiltered by the ego or anything else; the boundlessness of it, the lack of need for it to be captured and claimed, is something many try to express - and have tried, over and over, from the cave paintings to the lovemaking last night. We are the expression; we are the passion of being. We are the playground, and have ego and body and others and world and challenges and depression and unrest and tolerance and patience and children and time and space so many, many other playthings in order to express. Simple existence is the starting point; mind and time are the gift of awareness to itself. What we do, how we do it, when and where we do it is the game. It is delightful; it is devastating; it is relished. We construct belief systems that limit the game, and perhaps break free of them and change the game. We construct and hone the ego so that the player is known. The ego is necessary to negotiate the life game; and the player can change or grow, or regress, or be frustratingly stuck on a plateau; these are the nuances of the game. Ego can be good or bad, but the inherent nature of life is passion, life wanting to be, in all forms and every way. Our true nature is boundless, eternal, and infinite; and it is nothingness, nothing exists whatsoever, so the interestingly arranged energy that so many take to be the only reality is, in fact, miraculous. Once it is seen that nothing exists, despite appearances, and that indescribably essential and fundamental simple awareness is at last known, the game is seen for a game, and the game is no longer its own limitation. Just be; or if the game is still clung to, relish it, in all its many miraculous and gentle, astounding and cruel guises. There is nothing, that is not this.