In the heat of guerilla officing. The world cup in mouse clicking.
In the midst of the most peaceful yoga class or traveling the depths of your being, contemplating life in silent meditation.
A whisper is heard for those who listen. A sweet voice humming away. Bum-pa-dum-pa-dum.
Always there.
No right, no wrong. Yet both right and wrong.
All allowed. All well.
By the fruit shall you know the tree.
What works will make itself known. It will show its true power.
It will bear the message of voices of the past. And if you so will, listen to what it has to say.
Two days of frustration. Pain in my back.
I got caught in that whirl storm of thoughts and believed it.
When it takes you in, it goes for the most intimate fears you have. It knows your weakness, because it invented them.
I know they are just thoughts. Fear is a ghost.
Frustration dissipates on that realization.
…are like walking, or rather dragging yourself through mud.
As if fighting windmills on your way forward.
But even in this mudwalking, something remains still.
Relaxed through it all, it is not you walking. It is walking itself.
Mud will be mud. With no goal to reach or something to become. Mud is just mud.
Nowhere to go. Nothing to become.
What is, is good enough. I could live my whole life in this here and now.
So easy, this life.
No. Beyond easy. Effortless.
What if I stop?
Stop chasing experiences. Stop calling friends that never call back. Stop trying to keep life interesting, stop keeping active.
Just allowing life to happen the way it happens.
Will friends disappear? Will I become a boring piece of furniture, forgotten and unloved?
What will happen?
How far can you push yourself?
How far can you go in living up to other people’s expectations? How long until you have no other choice but to disappoint them.
Maybe just stop trying to be somebody?
Better is the enemy of good.
I will never be understood.
I walk alone in a world of connections, savouring the experience of everything.
Understanding is a fiction we long for, just like we strive for money to feel safe.
There are actions to be taken, but none of them will change who I am.
None of them will make anyone understand.
As long as I strive to be understood, I will be a slave to my mind.
Is there too much to do?
Or just a desire to do it all to gain something hard to define?
What happens if you just stop. No doing. Nothing. Sit still. Do nothing.
Will you start moving again before you realize you did?
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