We have been entrained and entranced to see ourselves as a persona.  We don’t even reach the point of believing it is who we are, because to do so would at least imply a modicum of doubt – otherwise, why bother having to believe.  No, we see it as true, the case, obvious.  As plain as the nose of your face.

But then we get inklings, little shards of clarity when we meet the world afresh.  The cut-out dotted line around the body is erased, and far from being lost in space, we are found in life, of life, deliciously woven through with the same vibe as a chocolate biscuit, cheeky pied wagtail, and a forever shifting sky.  Something drops into a warm climate of feeling and sensation.  It feels like home.


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