October Moon

This morning reading Michel de Salzmann and remembering William Segal’s writings. A small point of maturity is touched in me. There is a groundedness that can be available. That I can simply sit in. This is a maturity. Not reactive. Pure. One cannot attain it. Simple being. Is-ness. Sometimes I remember these things. Sometimes I can cease the struggle to attain, acquire, collect. Why the need to acquire? It is from a feeling of lack. Un-necessary. All this is impermanent. All of life is fleeting. And this is beautiful. How disappointed I have been with myself. To what benefit? To be a man means to accept what is, smile to ourselves at the reflections, the currents, the ebb and flow of the life force in it’s dance, totality. One cannot control it. One cannot even control oneself.

To be at peace one must be at one with circumstances; develop an inner separation, impartiality. Neither “this”, nor “that.” “Develop” is, of course, the wrong word. One cannot grow into it; one must surrender. It is the default position when I drop holding onto “my agenda” and stop being so personal.

Nothing personal.

This is the key. It’s not personal. Nothing is. It’s just life. Good day… bad day. Be a mountain. The mountain does not take it personal. It merely exists in it’s perfection, in just this moment.


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