From the Scrolls of Ahyeen
These writings are not stories to consume but moments to inhabit.
They are not lessons but living fields.
Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.
Existence Simply Existing
She decided to allow freedom to guide her every step, and in this a whole new landscape of possibilities arose.
Life became lithurgy. Never random, never planned. The paradox fully harmonious as the impermanence of moments became the song of the permanence of beingness, colouring each breath with reverence and wonder.
On this particular occasion away from home, Zalika chose to camp. It was a calling from the land itself. It wanted to hold her close to its warmth and show her how cared for she was. And so it was with great joy that Zalika pitched her tent in an open camping ground, where no one else seemed to be interested to be on that particular occasion but her.
It stood right beside the vast wide ocean and the air was as pure as the crystal clear water. The wind was playing with her hair and dancing around her skirt as the gentle warmth of the sun caressed her skin with the unmistakable touch of welcome.
She smiled at each detail, slowly savouring the stakes buried, one by one, into the soft grass and soil beneath it — her temporary home for tonight becoming stable and prepared to host her. And though the “walls” were paper thin, inside it felt like a solid cocoon with no barriers of sound, so that the waves of the ocean, the chanting of the birds, the rustling of the leaves on the trees above, the crickets and all else could play its symphony for Zalika in proper stereo surround with the best quality system – nature itself.
And this is how, that night, Zalika discovered what it felt like to feel completely held by the land. So safe it defied even common understanding of what safe means. No thread of her nervous system felt stirred to keep guard. The peacefulness was entire.
Throughout the night she woke often. Not in turmoil but in restfulness. The sense of fulfilment came about so strongly that it wanted to be acknowledged.
And after several nudges inviting her to step out of the tent in the middle of the night, Zalika finally gave in. She unzipped the tent’s entrance and stepped outside into a mild atmosphere of delight. The moment she looked up into the sky she was overtaken by awe. It was simply magnificent! The stars so bright against the dark backdrop of nightness that she could not go back into the tent without detaining her gaze up into the sparkling canvas above her. So she decided to pull out her mattress and sleeping bag and lie on the ground, just letting the stars soak into her system. Every now and then a shooting star or a moving comet leaving a fleeting trace of light across the darkness.
She felt like she was witnessing herself inasmuch as the sky was being witnessed through her. There were not two separate landscapes. Only One. And she was all of it and yet no single thing.
The depth of silence was that of a temple where one enters barefoot to offer reverence to the holy. The depth of stillness was absolute.
And in this Zalika recognized what unconditional wholeness truly meant. What it felt like to the very core of her bones, in the very centre of each cell, in the very space that held the physicality together, now embodied by what precedes sound and movement.
The total fusion she was experiencing was a love so vast that there was nothing else but it. Every single detail was an emanation of it.
And Zalika knew, then and there, Presence so full that nothing else really mattered and yet everything was absolutely sacred in the intrinsic value of All that Is.
She felt so completely safe in her solitude that the very notion of aloneness dissolved. And in that moment she became a Temple of Presence, walking, breathing, tasting life in marvel and wonder.
She became the unmoving centre in the shifting form. Stillness in motion, freedom at rest. All at once.
Ah and the grand realization dawned on her. In Wholeness nothing is missing. Not attracted. Not sought. Not even manifested. It simply is.
The shimmering night sky was a living testament of wealth that requires no context, overflowing as radiance. Not added, not earned, but revealed as the natural breath of Existence. Existence simply existing, and in that existence, all that is needed is naturally present.
Not partial. Whole. Not alone. Present. Not drawing something to oneself. Existing. Not as something added from outside. Intrinsic radiance. All spun from simply Being.
And so the sky sighed in Zalika’s breath and her breath enfolded heaven and earth into a body that now knew life as infinite. Death as blessing. Birth as emergence. Existence simply existing.
✧𓂀✧