Breathe in Breathe out

In an attempt to soothe the beast that rages within me, I pick up the Upanishads, I light a stick of incense and I listen to yoga chants quietly in my room.  As I find my self asking and asking and asking again and again.  I reflect on the situation in Egypt, and something I just read in my second reading of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle maintenance, let me paraphrase.  You cannot buck the system if all you attempt to do is overthrow it.  If you want to replace the people in the game of _uck _uck Noose, you are still playing the game.  Get out of the game, start someplace else with different rules.

I rage inside, like a howling blizzard I rage.

There is no knowing the questioner, there is no question, there is no self, there is only this all this, whole, complete emptiness.  Seek said the seeker.  Seek not said the Hider.

As long as one sees separation there is separation from the self.  Self is the indivisible unity of all life.  Life.  I am not tired.  I close my book.  I close my eyes I recite the heart sutra.

I breathe in, I breathe out.

Breathe.  Breathe. Breathe.

Every song, every poem, every living and inanimate thing in the universe is a manifestation of the universal being.  It too must feel rage.  It must not feel any rage at all.

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