Often enough, i struggle with the passion of wanting to put ideas and thoughts in words, to both understand and explore the esoteric questions. Yet, i sense that a certain amount of these mental meanderings is senseless, meaningless, bs. In some respects, just being still and silent is enough. Then the inspirations come and with them words. i am grateful for this gift of words. i just can’t settle for believing that i can do anything more then barely touch what really wants to be said. The words limit; the mind discriminates.
Today, i finally attended to some of the stains on my zafu. Upon wiping them off, i noticed a seam that was soon to be a hole. I took black thread and needle and reinforced the place. Simple, see a need and then attend to it.
Sparky the silky, found a shaft of sunlight streaming through the french doors. A need to be in the warmth of that spot beckoned him. He lay soaking up the golden rays of the sun. i very much doubt he questioned the validity of the sun or the meaning of why now here.
Although there is no way i can go back to the animal consciousness. i certainly can learn much if i don’t over analyze. When i come back to the question, “What is the meaning of life?” i still answer, “Life, is the meaning of life.” And on a deeper level, i know that life is a journey and every moment is a golden opportunity to wake up to what is always present. The quality of how i live this life is a choice. i choose to live from my heart. i choose to both sit in centred stillness and act from the same place. i will care for my consciousness as i did my zafu, as sparky did in the golden light of the sun.