Watching... Waiting...

Man is quite ineffectual at creating change. All through time and space Man's state of being has remained unchanged. In the absence of self-inspection one's outward expression takes root and expands it's form out into the universe for effect. Awaiting the echo we remain motionless, fixated with intent upon reception. Change does not occur in stasis and so we await our time, our place.

This then begs the question: how long will we wait to hear from ourselves? How long do we stand still receiving the ripples upon the pond of life and living and relishing in it's glory? How long do we fool ourselves by saying that our existence creates our need for the demonstration of ourselves? When we throw a rock into the pond it's effects are unmistakable and yet in our repeated efforts of creating change we go from pond to pond throwing rocks in the hopes that some type of permanency results.

It never does.

As our quest continues and grows our fervent desire becomes more and more real. It is our truth and so it is, captivating the entirety of our being. From it's depth of death and destruction, death and destruction reigns supreme. In this illusion of life and living our existence finds form and expression and as we hop and skip to each and every pond, nothing changes despite the difference of scenery. In how many ways, in how many forms can our desire express it's self?

As we continue down the road of trials and tribulations our waiting and watching continues as well. Ever on the alert for danger our beingness finds fear behind every tree, every shrub along the way. Everywhere we place our attention there seems to sprout another hide-a-way, another shelter where that which we fear gathers strength and vigor in order to do us in. Yes, our beingness is but a frightened child lost in the woods of one's own imagination where evil dwells upon the land.

In the land of opposites balance cannot be had.

And so we continue to watch, to wait for that which will never be found. Where a being may find peace and tranquility by simply letting go the opposite, one simply cannot and never will 'find' one's self. One can throw all the stones one wishes into the pond and yet never, ever find one's self exterior to one's self.

One cannot look for one's self but one certainly can seek it and in the long and drawn out process of fullfilling that quest, we watch and wait for it's arrival. Busy we become staring into the waters of life and living, seeing nothing but ourselves and wondering at the wonder of it all...

Some things never change until we wake from our own self interest. When that happens a disturbance in the force becomes mute testimony to anything at all.

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