Each expression is a one off, a precious once in any lifetime formation and yet, we aren’t the data points that live within. What we are is unending metamorphosis. We are infinite aliveness – the entirety if there was such a thing. All visible expressions – what we call you, me, and a world — are reflections of the blueprints, mirroring the degree of alignment with what actually is, the actuality of life. The gradation of alignment reflects the expression’s actual direct experience of life, the emptiness of resistance, the innocent simplicity of awareness.
We are not reincarnated. The idea of separate selves who reincarnate is just that, an idea. This we are creates and recreates itself in new forms, the movement of light and shadow, the dance of color and shape, eternally, infinitely. We are all-encompassing non-discriminating absolute potential in motion. We include all possibilities, all forms, all expressions. One is not better than the other, although it appears that way through the lens of awareness that is still betting on individuation.
Some expressions are reflections of love; others reflect fear. Take care not to judge, for not one sits at the controls. The masters were pure reflections, but even they were not the ultimate truth for they were mirroring the truth of their times. To overlay their words onto our times, is not just inaccurate, it has great potential for harm, for it paints a world stuck in a holding pattern, murdering the everchanging moment.
Life – the field of experiencing – is always in motion, a living expression of the expressionless. Words, especially yesterday’s words, are not filled with aliveness. Let them return to dust, and drink instead of the living word that is within you, that fills you up and spills into the world anew.
Once one field of experiencing appears to die, it slowly breaks up, returning to the oceanic field, the field without beginning or end, the field from which all manifestation flows. How slowly? That is a question that is only of interest to a timebound self. Timelessness doesn’t follow time’s rules of slow or fast, now and then, even so, it is an interesting question, the kicker, if you will. I speak to my beloved Kenny often. He left this plane, what we call dying, eleven years ago in earth time, not more than a sparkle in timelessness.
Does something of us remain? Are these identities eternal? In timelessness this moment still is. When I visited Chaco Canyon in 2011 and stood by the side of the remains of a once grand kiva, I was told I could ask a question, so of course I did. I said, ‘What was it like to live here?’ The response: ‘You’ve asked the wrong question. You should have asked, what is it like to live here?’
The only reaction to that response that makes any sense, although nothing truly makes sense, is I don’t know. It seems to be as close to accurate as anyone can get, in fact it is my go-to answer for most everything. I guess we’ll have to die to find out. As for me, I’m willing to wait and see.
There is no appropriate bio for Amaya Gayle. She doesn’t exist other than as an expression of Consciousness Itself. Talking about her in biographical terms is a disservice to the truth and to anyone who might be led to believe in such nonsense. None of us exist, not in the way we think. It’s actually much better than we can imagine. Ideas spring into words. Words flow onto paper and yet no one writes them. They simply appear fully formed. Looking at her you would swear this is a lie. She’s there after all, but honestly, she’s not … and she is. Love a paradox and life is nothing, if not paradoxical. Bios normally wax on about accomplishments and beliefs, happenings in time and space. She has never accomplished anything, has no beliefs and like you was never born and will never die. Engage with Amaya at your own risk.