When you get into a cleaner state of mind, where meditation is no longer torture time but, if one could ever dare, a pleasant pastime – there’s still some positive attachments waiting.
When I listen to the cadence of my fan and the amber hue all around, old paintings, crumbled napkins upon this desk, leaning back: I just have this strong urge to share this peace. Maybe out of a fear that if I don’t, it’ll fade away. Or that it doesn’t exist unless there’s another one to confirm we’re still in the same plane of reality. Funny, a fear of no longer existing, even though that’s liberation.
But now as I lay prying an illusory mind: maybe it takes courage to enjoy these things by yourself. Is it okay? A swan dive into dissolution, really.
It takes courage to say this is everything. Some gumption to say, yeah, I enjoy this silence, and I’ll enjoy it in silence, and there’s no more whisper of doubt waiting.
It takes courage to say you enjoy such things, when there’s many contorting it all otherwise. The confidence to know that, well, if you won’t enjoy this, do you really think anything else would be better?
The confidence that it’s okay if these are the last words between us.
If they are, I’ll see you after the World Lotus blooms once more.