For Some Time I Watch The Coming

In This Very Breath That We Take Now Lies The Secret That All Great Teachers Try To Tell Us.

It Is Related That Sakyamuni [the Historical Buddha] Once Dismissed As Of Small Consequence A Feat Of Levitation On The Part Of A Disciple, And Cried Out In Pity For A Yogin By The River Who Had Spent Twenty Years Of His Human Existence Learning To Walk On Water, When The Ferryman Might Have Taken Him Across For A Small Coin.

In Nonfiction, You Have That Limitation, That Constraint, Of Telling The Truth.

The Mystical Perception (which Is Only "mystical" If Reality Is Limited To What Can Be Measured By The Intellect And Senses) Is Remarkably Consistent In All Ages And All Places. All Phenomena Are Processes, Connections, All Is In Flux...have The Mind Screens Knocked Away To See There Is No Real Edge To Anything, That In The Endless Interpenetration Of The Universe, A Molecular Flow, A Cosmic Energy Shimmers In All Stone And Steel As Well As Flesh.

I Have Never Figured Out How Women Work But I Do Know That Their Skin Color Has No Significance. Black Or White, Every Last One Is Pretty Pink On The Inside And They Are All Impossible.