One for all

In the oneness is everything, and there is nothing that is not in the oneness, and there is nothing in the oneness that is not being. One and being are united in one being.
All is one, and the one is knowing itself. And you are the one. You are the one you have been searching for. Who else could it have been? And I am the one. I am the one I have been searching for. Who else?
And yet the self we are discovering is the self that is, was and will forever be. It is beyond the world of fragmentary beingness, it is not simply hither and thither, it simply is. So we want a little more depth.
Yet we can linger in the languid shallows, and many do, and depth may not appear to be so inviting, yet something resonates, and one notices the years going by, and there is something to do, to be, to realise, and in that realisation is everything.
That step, it's right here.

Knowing oneself

Of course, there is no me and you, meaning a separate me and you. There is only me and you meaning a together me and you; and there is more than this, for there is me and you and a together everything else.
"Are we together?" As they say in some places. Meaning do we understand one another, but what if we understand that there is no other. There is only the self, the whole self and nothing but the self. And what if, as we understand there is no other, we also understand that there is no self, meaning the sense-of-separate self; our separate identity, our own consciousness. There is nothing except for everything, that is the reality. How could any of it be different?
So we have come to this. We don't need to get that we are we - whatever we mean by that - and God is God, - whoever we mean by that - we need to get it that there is only ONE, not simply one God, one being which embraces us, not merely embraces us in the sense of wrapping God-like arms around us, but embraces us because it can do no other: it is one. How could it be otherwise? How could we be otherwise?

You, honestly

What is the truth? What is, that's the truth. Can we ever describe it? sort of: to describe it is to reduce it to words, and it is not words, so every description is nothing more than a cartoon.
Who is the truth? You are, you are being the truth, you are the truth. And the truth - or if you like being the truth - will set you free. You always were, you are and you always will be, until the end of time, and when is that?
Time is present while doing is happening. We see that doing brings life, of a sort, to being, and so we are. Without doing in some shape or form, time has come to an end. Being may be, but it is not persisting through time, we are outside of time. And of course we always were.
So let us live this truth of our being: we are here, we have turned up, we are engaging in something so utterly amazing that the gloriousness of it passes us by.

A place inside a tent

When the self searches for the self, it finds that it was the self searching. When the self searches for love, it finds that it is love. Nothing more or less.
So life is as you find it to be. So what is the self? A fiction. When you get right down to it there's no self: there's a breath, a wave, an undulation of the whole. A place inside a tent.  
What is there? Each imagined self imagining its separateness, and to that extent being separate, but that passes. In the end there's a circle, and you are right back where you started: Not being separate. Yet wasn't this whole helter-skelter thing something quite amazing. Mhmm, there goes life.