Awakening. What a poetic possibility to express the opening and openess of our being, awareness.
We are more like the morning mist on grass and flowers. Like seeds in the soil and germs pushing through the surface. Like buds showing themselves to the sky and starting to open up, to unfold to the open sky and space around. Buds opening up and evolving to flowers. Opening up their delicacy without holding back their aroma.
We are opening up our eyes to see more clearly the reality of our heart and being. Seeing more clearly the beauty and preciousness of our vulnerable existence as humans. And also the fundamental width of ourselves. This is awakening. Awakening to our existence as human beings.
Awakening is happening. The mind hosted by the body is awakening to itself. Is awakening to its origin and also to the content painted in the width of this space where all this is happening in.
Awakening is. This pure mind is. And there is just this pure openness, this open perceiving. Awakening is awake. Just this awareness awake.
Wide awake. Wide awake to what is happening. To see, feel, sense and taste life happening. To be clear about ones own mind with all its facetts. And this mind is clear and awake about itself. No riddles left.