meditation

This morning, meditating...the nature of my meditation has changed. At night I use technique -ritual and focus. I visit places. I explore. In the mornings I simply sit and observe what I am aware of and try to catch the felt-sense of what or who it is that is aware of these things. The contents of my mind and senses aren't important and they settle when not engaged. The pond becomes clearer. There is peace, stillness. I try to wrap my awareness around this presence, but it contains no qualities. It is my form of prayer and reminds me of an old verse in a holy text and modern apostle Popeye: I am that "I am" and that's all that I am. Sam.

Even though the content of experience or memory or ideas, including ideas about self, is irrelevant in this awareness, it is not detachment. If anything (and it's really nothing) it's abiding in the radiance that is the ordinary world without the automatons false identity seeking to digest and utilize and process this or that, an experience more akin to sleepwalking and dreams than the awakening into presence and radical acceptance of what's going on. In a sense it may be detachment, but it's detachment from a small self that compartmentalizes every experience in its limited domain as good or bad, pleasure or pain, fear or hope. No quality is real.