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The first thing you discover is
a kind of emptiness,
a silence,
a presence which doesn't seem to have content to it,
like looking up at a limitless sky.
That boundary-less place
inside you
is your own consciousness,
your awareness.
When you relax into it,
you realize that it's also full -
it is everything.
You realize this presence is
what you really are: Love.
Arjuna Ardagh
For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding
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