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Dec '25 • The Self speaks
Echoes of the Self
Dear Self, yes, I mean you.
These pages did not arise from thought, but from a quiet listening that was already present. Nothing was written here. Something simply echoed. I was only a hollow bamboo through which the Self let its song pass, sounding itself for the joy of its own remembering.
Read not for meaning, but for resonance. Let the words dissolve back into the silence from which they came.
Warm regards,
Helmut
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Echoes of the Self
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An invitation to rest in the quiet awareness beneath all doing, to simply be what is already whole.
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