The next morning when I heard the bird, everything dropped away and the next thing I knew I was the bird.
I was the listening.
I was everything.
Everything and Nothing.
So ordinary.

And I'll try to read you this poem I wrote the same morning:

Today I awoke, finally I see the Self has returned to the Self.

The Self is none other than the Self.

I am deathless. I am endless. I am free.

The birds outside sing and there am I.

The seeing of leaves on the trees, that seeing am I.

The body breathes, breathing am I.

I am awake and I know that I am awake.

Seen from the old eyes, everything is asleep, a game, a delusion.

But now I am awake. I am the play. I am the game. I am the delusion.

I am the enlightenment I sought, looking everywhere.

Nothing is separate, nothing is alone.

I am all that I see. All that I smell, taste, touch, feel, think and know.

I am awake and this awakeness is the same as Shyakyamuni Buddha's

Today the leaf has returned to the root.

I am all name and form and beyond all name and form.

I am Spirit, no longer trapped in a body.

I am free. I am free because I am awake.

So ordinary. Who would have thought ? Who could have guessed ?

I am home. I am really home. Ten thousand life times.

Ten thousand life times but today I am home.

Ten thousand life times but today I am home.

This is not an experience. This is me.

I am awake. Finally, I am awake.

Nothing has changed, but I am awake.

Before I tasted the root many times and felt? how delicious.

Today I became the root.

How ordinary.

Sources:

• http://www.wheniawoke.com/Sages/Adyashanti.pdf
• Adyashanti Official Website

---

Bookmark with: