the work is always what is before me

right now there is nothing, just the days and nights of utter relaxation and self surrender, the love of being, i read my books, meditate , exist, my bovine existence is sublime. i wonder what is next what is left, vaguely unconcerned, all is the empty bucket and lightly carried to the well. the desperation and determination are settled, done, the being here has ended that. i wake like a log from sleep undisturbed, i spend the morning at the cafe, catching up on my blog, uploading, emails and entrails on the facebook. what more could i want except to do the same things elsewhere.spiritually im  nothing, no it, who what, just this existing awareness, no work to do no teaching need, no lust for expansion.i take my moments as golden from every corner, this is the sublime state, not feeling any pull or push to do or become. what is spirit but that which i truly am, the god within at peace and satiated. one candle lit lights all and i have been present for the ceremony of lights and beyond. i exist as pure and untouched awareness and relax as flesh and bone no longer held bound, awaiting release, all is done.whatever questions i had are now the answers i sought, the transformation is from seeking to knowing, again released and transformed in the same motion. i have nothing and want nothing, this life, this suffering soul is gone, what remains are the days leading on and on into infinity, eternity, unified and one, integration proceeds. there is no needing, the relations and relationships are just shadows of myself, the idea there is anything left to add or subtract no longer has any gravity.i am that one being, i exist as that knowing i am that, becoming that and all is that. i cannot imagine needing another, following or subscribing. in the west we are all lost followers, searching for what we dont have, whats missing, but its exactly whats missing we should be having, letting go until nothing remains and the emptiness sucks at the bones. i feel that, the empty bones, the lifeless form, and the joyous self, the being released and remembered restored to the self where only the self has been, what Self this self dreams, becomes, exists as the truth and never leaves.