
My life is my revelation of the mystery of being. In a language of images, sensations, and feelings, the universe speaks to that knowing nested in this body-mind—a knowing no other than the world’s own knowing of itself. Thus, being is both speaker and listener, and my life is the speech. By speaking, it reveals as much as it conceals, for every experience is a translation of the universal in the language of the concrete.
My life is my revelation, and yet I roam through books and teachers, philosophies and poets, inhaling the exhaust of their revelations, seeking to feed on the vapors of their truths. Thus, I silence the one true teacher—call it life, being, universe, or God—who is patiently waiting for me to hear its voice, to learn its primal language.
This very body-mind is the scripture of being; my own heart and soul are the psalms of God. I am the place where the ink meets the paper, and that is often too frightening and lonely. So I flee to my books and teachers, philosophies and poets—opiates against the unbearable truth of my being here and now.
May we learn to bear the revelation,
Simeon
“Because I am free, unconditioned, whole–not the part, not the relative, but the whole Truth that is eternal–I desire those, who seek to understand me to be free; not to follow me, not to make out of me a cage which will become a religion, a sect. Rather should they be free from all fears–from the fear of religion, from the fear of salvation, from the fear of spirituality, from the fear of love, from the fear of death, from the fear of life itself.”
—Krishnamurti, Speech on the Dissolution of the Order of the Star in the East
Suggested Reading
Self-Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson
In Self-Reliance, Emerson challenges us to abandon secondhand truths and trust the living current of insight within. A bracing reminder that the soul’s voice is older than scripture, and speaking still.
Order here to support SEEKER TO SEEKER at no extra cost. You can also browse my personal list of favourite books here.



and the calligraphy on that painting was read “秋风林杪哀,晚霭噪鸦喧” meaning "The autumn wind wails through the treetops,
Evening mist rises as crows clamor."
Simeon, once again, your words strike a blow to my inflated ego, letting out at least some of the gas as it were, slow leak by leak. Recently I've been drawn to The Telepathy Tapes, and NDE videos, I think to open the aperture of my being. To loosen the grip of the materialism we've been so well conditioned to believe. Thank you for these powerful words and insights. They are helpful. 🙏🏻