It’s like I’m playing out a story on a stage, playing a role that I think I’m supposed to fill.
From the centre of stillness, I watch myself participate in the illusion, this story I’ve created for myself. I question why I feel so defensive of it, though it brings pain.
It’s like I’m playing out a story on a stage, playing a role that I think I’m supposed to fill. Performing for others, not making conscious decisions for myself based in self-worth.
I know that pain is inevitable but suffering is optional. Yet I defend my suffering.
A thought asserts itself within me, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” The celebrity voice of Dr. Phil resounds in my “inner” ear.
Of all the wise sages here and gone, I’m annoyed that it is he who comes to me. Then, quickly relax into the humour of it as I realize my own seriousness.
Letting go of the illusion, I am peaceful once again.