Tag: life
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a slippery, errant story made up of half-remembered facts and wilful inventions. But some say it’s not true; they say it’s a stone that you find in the depths of your spirit and then place it firmly in the centre of your being. People want that kind of certainty. But anyone who has lived for…
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a sign, or a loud thunderclap of meaning, but as a pulse, a faint shimmer on the edge of understanding, more like how a window sees the weather or a river sees stones. One perceives life’s truths, not as revelations but as slow, uncoiling recognition that aligns with presence; witness the world’s beauty, its boundless…
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the hollowness that receives the world’s noise, the resonance chamber for all its discord and harmony; in this state one is neither the observer nor the observed, rather the event itself… © KD.W.Heim
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so often imagined as a fortress or container, dissolve into the breeze, the slow drift of pollen, the immense and ceaseless exchange between leaf and sun, a porous membrane between all things, the place where substance and possibility meet, where life’s exhalations pass through me as if through a wind swept corridor in the heart…
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when i am open and emptied, when i stands at the edge of my own being, stripped of every foregone conclusion, every wish to understand or shape what comes. It is not a negation or an absence, but a fullness that cannot be owned or directed, a readiness that is its own invitation. When i…
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and now is always running away. The heart betrays the intellect; what else, after all, is a heart for? the real face, the unrepeatable truth, lives underneath all the costume changes, the script revisions, the sweetened versions of the one and only… © KD.W.Heim
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the obvious truths; the intricate, inimitable essence of being in the fullness of now with all its possibilities… © KD.W.Heim
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each clamour for attention, brandishing their trophies and warnings; one might feel a tenderness for the way time appears to destroy and accumulate, the way it drinks youth and leaves behind a sediment of wisdom … © KD.W.Heim
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not as a theory or a prescription but as a living organism inhabiting here now; to be alive, feeling even when the moment hurts, because at least the feeling is honest. The present is not a thing to endure or outrun, but a locus of possibility, every second pregnant with its own fragile kind of…
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sometimes drifting gently on its surface, sometimes thrashing against the undertow. Along a shared path, raw candour is the currency and the code: neither spare the hard questions nor flinch from the difficult answers and even the smallest insight is examined, held up to the light… © KD.W.Heim