Lecture 6 | How to Create Facebook Page and Boost your First Ad
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Lecture 6 | How to Create Facebook Page and Boost your First Ad
true generosity, the world given with every glance and no effort to achieve the view. It's allimmediate, everything, with nothing missing....
True generosity:
this true generosity, the world given with every glance and no effort to achieve the view. It’s all immediate, everything, and what seems missing doesn’t yet belong. This is the birthright of simply being, my privilege of existence, and I take none of it for granted.
for all that’s given – I am grateful.
it’s all so perfect, that my breath is drawn from the nearness of air, and in release it belongs again to the world, circulated for the need of other forms of life. Breath is truly my continuation in some invisible way – that I breathe now the very same elements of all who came before, and others in lifetimes yet to come, will breathe my soul again.
it seems, in some essence, that I continue.
so I find myself too part of this generosity – a circulation of breath, my body once more returned as earth, and shared again as some aspect of the world. It’s a true rebirth. Everything I am, in some important sense, will continue through so many ways. This is the essence of belonging, that every part of me is recycled dust, elements, energy. In this generosity, I am given too, not a breath wasted, nothing that doesn’t somehow serve the whole.
it’s true generosity.
and I am of service to the world, as it is given so freely to me I return it’s favor by my very nature, again with no effort needed. To simply be – is to give. I am generosity of spirit and form, not just of breath and body, but in formless capacity as well. Selfless, I serve to hold the world. It’s the generosity of belonging, every aspect, no matter how small, lending itself in continuation of the whole. This is the real sense of what I am – a lending of emptiness and form for life to be continued.
a selfless generosity.
~
Peace, Eric
To tend these common wounds, different to each, unique, and yet shared in a certain bond that we ache in a silent part of life...............
These common wounds:
to tend these common wounds, different to each, unique, and yet shared in a certain bond that we ache in a silent part of life. I know my wounds, and through this I surmise the hurt of others, that by virtue of how life unfolds that you as well have been wounded.
at this point it’s not about details, there’s no wish for anything but space to share, to lend myself as capacity for others to simply rest in company. I want to tell you that you’re not alone, your pain is shared in essence if not detail, and that we break and heal together. But not with words, as helpful as they often are – let’s both be held in a silence of true company, the courtesy of allowing ourselves to just be open with our pain without need for it to be altered through the use of words, tending to ourselves, to each other, with the gift of being present.
through life these wounds are seemingly protected through layers of projection, guarded, and kept from public view. My own wounds were all but buried through years of denial, by false fronts, and an offered sense of strength through every storm. There was little space to simply hurt, to tend to wounded needs. There was no space shared with others.
no true space.
a true space is empty of expectation for healing, it’s not meant to alter how we feel. It’s just provided, my own capacity offered to you, and it’s yours for whatever wish you need. Through this my emptiness is fulfilled. This is the service of company, our gift of together. I know we share a common wound, my own deep ache tells me so. This, right here, not these words but the space that follows, is what I offer…
my capacity to hold you through this pain.
~
Peace, Eric
yet still I would find myself removed from the actual things of the world, true beauty being elusive to all but presence.....................
True beauty:
to hear of beauty, to be transformed through description, and offering hope as a promise to be witnessed – yet still I would find myself removed from the actual things of the world, true beauty being elusive to all but presence. Even a poet offers only hints of this, no matter how insightful or artfully arranged, words fail in the sense of any real understanding.
but there’s still the urge to try, a wish to give voice to something greater than can be told. This too belongs to beauty, as if it’s reach continues through an artist’s touch, grown fainter but still demands for it’s expression. The sorrow of every artist is the sense of losing this touch, realty never quite captured through the symbols of their work.
true beauty is in the experience.
and yet, perhaps, it’s all experience – that the role of an artist is to be transformed by beauty and carried on through it’s vibrations. Not to capture any single, beautiful scene but to simply, and always, be a continuation of its expression. True beauty is seamless, inter-dependent through landscape all the way to the artist’s mind, and even than to all who view their work.
it’s all continued beauty.
to hear of beauty, through words, or any means – is a sirens call of nature, urging a return to the truth of simply being. True beauty is life, told in all it’s sorrow and wonder. It’s always being expresses, and I find myself in an easy surrender of grace and words.
part of its continuation.
~
Peace, Eric
. So I trust that every page is ready to be fulfilled, that we meet now in shared space, my own emptiness matched to its promise.............
To be fulfilled:
trust more – and for me, this is the quality of emptiness with most promise, that the page holds mystery that will reveal itself through words. If only I am patient. So I trust that every page is ready to be fulfilled, that we meet now in shared space, my own emptiness matched to its promise.
both ready to be fulfilled.
in truth, emptiness holds no qualities but my own, it’s unconditional in the reflection that it offers, and I bring myself in every fault and glory to its hold. To see, an honest seeing, is to come to certain terms with what’s found – and through this I find that it all belongs. Emptiness is my own honesty, no less my true reflection as any quality brought before it.
it is simply myself before reflection.
and after too, it seems – for there is no quality that’s removed from the emptiness of its surroundings, no meaning without a silent understanding. I exist as emptiness fulfilled. And my fulfillment, my life expressed in unique, personal, qualities – is not separate from its empty hold. It’s all one thing, emerging, and the silent wait for what’s to emerge.
something and nothing at once.
it’s not a paradox, but only reality in working order – spacious fulfilled and always room for more, never ending in the creativeness of its expression. This is what I’ve come to trust, that I am of design to be creative, emptiness given voice and pen and that something of value, if only to me, will come to be expressed.
and so I write – my trust fulfilled.
~
Peace, Eric
To be worthy: just a life lived worthy of itself - that I deeply appreciate my existence, this opportunity to simply be alive and thriving...
A true smile is soul seeking connection, it's my innocence in chance encounter of another's. It's an exchange between us, a telling sign.....
A true smile:
to smile – and it’s what I offer to the world, my own vulnerability displayed in a trust of what we share, a genuine greeting from my depth to yours. A true smile is soul seeking connection, it’s my innocence in chance encounter of another’s. It’s an exchange between us, a telling sign of my capacity to hold you exactly as you are, and that I see this same capacity offered in return.
to smile is to simply be aware.
my smile is made ready, from early on it’s how I meet the world, from first wonder and then with every moment of new discovery. A smile is my original innocence shown, unafraid to peek from layers of hurt, and sorrow added through the years. It’s vulnerable, and spontaneous, and always given in certain faith that this innocence is the true nature of the world. Through this I am never disappointed, for every response is a trade of some sort – as if we recognized our shared spaciousness, trusting another to hold a deepest fear, or grieving ache. A true smile is an invitation of trust, and we receive just enough for each exchange to be a moment of love between us, a healing encounter, no matter how brief in offering.
a true smile is to give my deepest self.
and the truth is, the world always receives me – this alone is reason to smile. That each day I am welcomed in my every mood, never censored in beliefs, or how I greet the day. I’m accepted as I am, never questioned as to what I offer, and not measured in any sense of worth. It’s enough for me to simply be, existing in common bond with every other aspect of the world. My smile is genuine, it’s a knowing smile of being loved even in the strength of doubt. This too is how we receive each other, it’s a bypass of mistrust and fear, given in faith of our shared innocence. We trust each other in glance and smile. It’s also how we trust the world.
today, I give my smile to you.
~
Love, Eric
as for me, my own sense of minimalism is of interior intent, that I hold my thoughts lightly, and value silence found through letting go.....
Sense of MinimalismSense of minimalism:as for me, my own sense of minimalism is of interior intent, that I hold my thoughts lightly, and value silence found through letting go of what my mind used to hold. It’s not about possessions, what’s cherished in the mind, through imagination, binds more than what is owned. To be free doesn’t require an abandonment of anything – things come and go of their own accord, through the flow and then ebb that life always offers.even freedom can’t be acquired, it’s never found through seeking, and not a sense that comes from giving up the things I own. My true freedom is known through recognition of myself as life, that I belong as fully in its ebb and flow as any other aspect shown. What’s let go is not my sense of self, but the ownership of this self, my cherished notion of all I hold myself to be. This sense of minimalism shows me how cluttered these beliefs are within my mind, gathered through years of collecting ideas of what I am.letting go happens completely on its own.it comes from seeing, to simply be aware, and to see myself in this awareness. It’s seamless. Nothing can be owned here, everything belongs by virtue of appearance, and just as easily goes when its stay is done. There’s only freedom, effortlessly so, and a true surrender in current course of flow. Through infinite space – everything appears in minimal order, belonging exactly as it is, for however long its stay. As I see now, as come to this letting go…there is only spacious wonder.already, I’ve been surrendered.free.~Peace, Eric
with no true idea of what's to come, of what idea will makes itself known, or if a theme will play out and tie these together................
No true idea:
with no true idea of what’s to come, of what idea will makes itself known, or if a theme will play out and tie these word together. There’s just the writing, a pause for words to make their appearance, and then continued writing. No plan, no agenda. But there is a certain faith that words will make their way to me, will find their way to fill this page. It’s how my morning unfolds, a creative trust that serves me well. I see each empty page as full of promise, my role is to listen, and then convey.
it’s an easy process.
and it’s the same with life – I have no true idea of what’s to come, my day begins with the same creative trust that life guide me through it’s course, that what I really need will find it’s way to me. I have a certain faith that if I listen, if I pause and listen – life will whisper to me of my belonging, a secret often missed throughout a busy world. This too is an easy process. I see each dawn with the promise of an empty day, my role is to listen, and then to simply live.
life itself fills everyday.
so a theme has emerged, as I write a story of life and creativity is told. I am an imperfect listener, and often make my own way across the page with words that I prefer. The theme then becomes misguided. It’s similar too with life. Yet none of this is practice, what I write is a continuous correction, words given through intuitive grace replacing those I choose in preference. What’s done is left to the page in testament to the moment, my own imperfect listening to the grace of given words. There’s no need to practice for this moment, life still continues, creativity flows, and another moment follows.
~
Peace, Eric
The path of suffering: of suffering- and there are many promises to escape, offering a bypass through this certainty of life.................
The path of suffering:
of suffering- and there are many promises to escape, offering a bypass through this certainty of life. Many paths have this as their stated goal, some more immediate, and others in a life to come, or a well-earned realm free of earthly cares. But this is about the path of suffering. It’s the only truth I’m able to write about with any real conviction.
life is the path of suffering.
not always, and sometimes not even often – there have been long stretches of peace, contentment, and happiness in my life. I’ve been blessed. Yet throughout suffering was always near, for me a presence of bleak depression that asked to be drowned out by drugs and alcohol, and too often I gave into this request. Twenty years of sobriety later and the voice has grown softer, asking for less, no real expectation of receiving. But still persistent. And the depression remains, perhaps less intense, an easier visit now and then. But still present.
of course too there are always the tragic events of life and I won’t offer my list of here – they are similar to yours, everyone’s. They are an inescapable aspect of life. They cause suffering through loss, pain, and drastic changes. They’re unexpected, crashing existence without notice. Even a life blessed will know these events all too well. It’s just how life happens.
so the promise, as it seems, is not about escaping pain, but to no longer suffer – that suffering is a separate cause from what hurts and can be avoided through some offered path. It’s a well traveled path, and one I’ve walked for long. And still I suffer. But life has brought me to a new path and it leads only to what’s present. Sometimes it leads to suffering. There is no sense in choosing another path, a different way that only leads me exactly here, again, and still find the same suffering I wished to leave behind. The path is suffering.
it’s not chosen.
it’s also not bleak, life isn’t a dark path that always leads to pain – it’s varied, full, and seamless in way that reveals how suffering belongs. It’s an aspect of life without bias. Suffering is the path because of what it offers, because it truly won’t be avoided, and it is simply the only path that’s found. I walk this path with you, together, and through this we provide a common light to guide our way. It’s not a lonely path, it’s ours.
it’s life.
~
Love, Eric
it becomes about presence, the only true gift to offer to another - to give of myself, aware, and sure of our connection......................
About Presence About presence:it becomes about this, the only true gift to offer another – to give of myself, aware, and sure of our connection. This is how I hold the world, an embrace that’s empty of goal and agenda, simply allowing life to unfold in the way of its own effect. As if I could interfere at all, that my sense of self is separate from what unfolds.there’s only presence.the distinction, subtle, is the life built through my beliefs of being other, that I talk of presence as if it belonged to myself alone and something I could give to others. Yet even in its intimacy presence isn’t personal, it’s not mine, but it includes all I hold in conviction as my own. Presence is my true life, and it allows my personal sense of self to be, to carry on its task of living in such a hurried world. But life itself remains untouched through it all.when we offer something of real value to another, listening, a deep listening that allows someone to be truly heard – there’s only presence, just the listening itself, and all but what’s being shared recede to the background of the moment. This is how we see each other as well, recognizing ourselves as presence in the guise of someone other. Everything between us is shared, at least the real things, all of us belong as life, presence, living this connection.every spiritual practice is simply to remember this, to comeback to what I really am, and all of it serves to a certain surrender – eventually, as always, it’s just about presence. There is no practice needed. There’s nothing to remember. It now comes to living, an easy sense of being alive without pressure to perform.to be.~Peace, Eric
it's the perfection of each moment - and by this I mean the exactness of how things are, my world having lead to all that is right now........
The exactness of how things are:
it’s the perfection of each moment – and by this I mean the exactness of how things are, my world having lead to all that is right now, and that nothing could be other than what’s found. This is the realization of what is, without wish for change, but faith that all is motion.
by this perfection, it’s meant beyond my personal needs, not aligned to meet my demands, nor even comfort – but that things won’t, can’t, be any other way for now. Life has lead to this moment, and to each that follows, all in infinite fashion. My every choice has played to this perfection.
so with this comes acceptance.
and by no means is this simply resignation – I am continuously involved, a participant of all circumstances, belonging to this exactness even as it comes to change. My acceptance is full of promise, that this moment brings me one more breath, another rhythm to my heartbeat, and that it all adds to the perfection of the moment that’s sure to follow.
it’s about gratefulness.
to accept this, the exactness of how things are, is to be grateful that life is at all, that I am given the means to be expressive, aware, and able to voice my thanks for being here. None of this had to be, and yet now, none of this could be any other way. I have this moment, so full of life, connected to everything, to every aspect of existence, to each of you.
it is, indeed, the perfect moment.
~
Peace, Eric
There is no conspiracy in truth, reality being the fabric of every moment, revealing itself to our senses. We touch what's true with intimacy.
No ConspiracyNo conspiracy:no one is privy to a truth that is denied others, all insight, while unique, is inclusive to the world, available, and given freely. There is no conspiracy in truth, reality being the fabric of every moment, revealing itself to our senses. We touch what’s true with intimacy, air passed against the lips, our breath always a whisper of the reality of right now.this,and it’s just what is, there’s no need to wish for a deeper experience than now – this, this moment, includes all aspects of reality, everything entwined, infinite, and known without any need to be told. Real truth is silent, loosely translated to poetic form.it’s experienced.there is no great conspiracy, we are not pawns played in any game, cosmic or otherwise. We just refuse to face this moment, the reality of mundane in all its intricate beauty. Our existence alone is worthy of a lifetime, to be explored in all it comes to offer. Right now, for me, this moment holds a rush of words, each inspired to reach the page. There is sunlight and coffee, bird songs outside the window. There are dust motes dancing through a light beam, infinite worlds of their own. This moment is revealed, reality layered in regard to my attention. I know only what I know – and it’s enough, more so, it’s all that’s really needed. Anything added would be fiction, a conspiracy of my own thinking.truth, is only, every moment.~Peace, Eric
it's the entire body seamless as the world, a whole organism in benefit to life and its continuation. There is no true place where we leave...
Seamless As The World Seamless as the world:it’s the entire body seamless as the world, a whole organism in benefit to life and its continuation. There is no true place where we leave off and it all begins – we are air given form, and earth somehow made aware. It’s one thing, seamless, even in distinctions. This is the view of reality, seen by mystics and physicist, seen everyday in ordinary wonder by us all, yet taken much for granted. It’s simply seeing what’s laid out in plain view, that the world spreads from our awareness, in every direction turned, and at no point do we find ourselves excluded.we are seamless as the world.things seem to become something other, appearances changing through deception of the senses. But these are just distinctions, a flower doesn’t become separate from the bud, the caterpillar isn’t other than its metamorphosis to butterfly. Nature is the illusion of change, certainly a shift of appearance and circumstance, yet always in essence just the same.what we are, is the one essence of the world.of course this could be argued, and nothing here is presented as anything other than how I feel within this moment. It’s my own poetry, my seen and felt experience of right now. It’s how I see the world, and this view holds each of you as well. I can only write of our together.so I do.Peace, Eric
to the point where I'm surrendered - and this is not my letting go, but life itself through every moment, always current to what's now present
Where I’m Surrendered Where I’m surrendered:to the point where I’m surrendered – and this is not my letting go, but life itself through every moment, that I am always current to what’s presented. The past has no true hold on me, not in any sense that isn’t remembered, a story recalled from a life that’s now passed. It’s not that I only reside within the present moment, I’m not a Zen master after all, it’s just that this moment is all there is, and there is no choice but to be present in all it offers.so life takes me to the point where I’m surrendered, some seamless edge where it’s all let go and something new arises. It’s continuous, and only memories and beliefs keep me occupied with who I used to be. My truth is always in the present moment.my truth is always change.nothing seeks surrender, all real change is without effort, being just the way that life unfolds, mysterious and with a grace that’s simply given. No seed attempts to flower, there’s only the trust of nature to unfold in certain ways to allow this change to be. Every aspect of the seed is surrendered to a current asking, that now is the time to soften to a water’s touch, to then part in a reach to anchor to the ground. It’s a constant letting go, and yet at once a new becoming.only the identity of a seed is ever lost.eventually a flowers time has come, and even this is brief in bloom – there is a point where petals too are surrendered to air, carried back to earth as a start to something new. It’s all a continuation of some sort, life always letting go in order to become. Of course I’ll mourn my own time of briefly blooming, even as I’m given back to air and earth, and become something beyond my understanding. But nature doesn’t cling, it’s always current in the true sense of moving on.it’s to this point where I’m surrendered…~Peace, Eric
Content with mystery:to not concern myself with philosophy, that things are or they're not a certainty, is past my point of understanding.....
Content With Mystery Content with mystery:to not concern myself with philosophy, that things are or they’re not a certainty, is past my point of understanding. I am content with mystery, poetry, and a fluid truth that’s told within each moment. To hold my beliefs so lightly, briefly, unafraid to let them go.with this I find myself relaxed with simply being, no need to rush in defense of treasured lines of thinking, no beliefs to argue even to myself. Truth seems to be revealed wordlessly, translated to a particular understanding. I have no wish to debate another’s revelation, to bend their truth to mine. We will meet in the silence of our shared perception, seeing together, before the need for words arrive.both content with mystery.what I write isn’t meant to be true, it conveys no reality other than a moment glimpsed with certain insight, perhaps only relevant to myself alone. It’s shared through the urge of every word that’s given – to be expressed in an artful manner, presented in a unique way through the person who received them. What I write is mystery, and even as they reach the page any truth found as words is already gone.what I write is a memory.and why argue what’s remembered, it’s faulty ghost at best – I am not concerned with the philosophy of things, each experience is exact they way it is, and there will be a thousand ways for its description. I only offer one, and have no investment in a truth that’s now past. What I write is of a moment, and my words always lag an instant just behind.it seems any truth remains unwritten.~Peace, Eric
There is no conspiracy in truth, reality being the fabric of every moment, revealing itself to our senses. We touch what's true with intimacy.
No conspiracy:
no one is privy to a truth that is denied others, all insight, while unique, is inclusive to the world, available, and given freely. There is no conspiracy in truth, reality being the fabric of every moment, revealing itself to our senses. We touch what’s true with intimacy, air passed against the lips, our breath always a whisper of the reality of right now.
this,
and it’s just what is, there’s no need to wish for a deeper experience than now – this, this moment, includes all aspects of reality, everything entwined, infinite, and known without any need to be told. Real truth is silent, loosely translated to poetic form.
it’s experienced.
there is no great conspiracy, we are not pawns played in any game, cosmic or otherwise. We just refuse to face this moment, the reality of mundane in all its intricate beauty. Our existence alone is worthy of a lifetime, to be explored in all it comes to offer. Right now, for me, this moment holds a rush of words, each inspired to reach the page. There is sunlight and coffee, bird songs outside the window. There are dust motes dancing through a light beam, infinite worlds of their own. This moment is revealed, reality layered in regard to my attention. I know only what I know – and it’s enough, more so, it’s all that’s really needed. Anything added would be fiction, a conspiracy of my own thinking.
truth, is only, every moment.
~
Peace, Eric