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    Hanging, weightless in open awareness.

    Clinging to no tradition. Seeing through each of them to the common unicity of all of them.

    Clinging to no tradition. Seeing through each of them to the common unicity of all of them.

    Clinging to no tradition. Seeing through each of them to the common unicity of all of them.

    Darkness, wind and rain. The drip, drip, drip from a broken gutter.

    Darkness, wind and rain. The drip, drip, drip from a broken gutter.

    Darkness, wind and rain. The drip, drip, drip from a broken gutter.

    The dark night of the unknown. The steps one knows one has to take and the associated fear.

    The dark night of the unknown. The steps one knows one has to take and the associated fear.

    The dark night of the unknown. The steps one knows one has to take and the associated fear.

    Responsibility.

    Responsibility.

    I feel this is the heart of meditation: Simply being interested in what is here – being more interested in what is… than in what was, what will be, or what should be.

    Toni Packer

    I feel this is the heart of meditation: Simply being interested in what is here – being more interested in what is… than in what was, what will be, or what should be.

    Toni Packer

    I feel this is the heart of meditation: Simply being interested in what is here – being more interested in what is… than in what was, what will be, or what should be.

    Toni Packer

    The dog, snoring at my feet. Loud chatter coming through the wall from next door. The smell of coffee and of smoke from the unlit fire. A new, different kind of silence in the absence of clanging tinnitus.

    Even the same things are new in each moment.

    The dog, snoring at my feet. Loud chatter coming through the wall from next door. The smell of coffee and of smoke from the unlit fire. A new, different kind of silence in the absence of clanging tinnitus.

    Even the same things are new in each moment.

    The dog, snoring at my feet. Loud chatter coming through the wall from next door. The smell of coffee and of smoke from the unlit fire. A new, different kind of silence in the absence of clanging tinnitus.

    Even the same things are new in each moment.

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