I can let life come by, drop in, parade on past. There is nothing to do or accomplish or avoid or pursue.
To stop... to just stop, is all I can do. Every time I choose to (think I can) pursue or avoid... Stop. Just stop.
There are story lines from taking birth that are winding down now. The longest parts of me (my ego), are slipping away from me, disappearing on the wind before they find the horizon.
Consciousness dissolves into consciousness. Being dissolves into being. You.
I see my ego at last, from outside of it. If it seemed important, my ego dreamed it up. If I made damn sure to remember it, my ego was on the scene when I decided.
I am not that.
I am the sweet scent of my lover's embrace, the flutter in my beloved's hair, His lush lashes dance as He raises His eyes to mine, my true Self forever in the pools of His eyes.
A silent splash.