I have everything I need. Saying that consciously quiets the mind. Stops it in its tricky little tracks. Lets the dust of delusion settle. Perhaps anything said consciously does the same, for consciousness is the key. The door to infinity is open wide. And so I amble through and see what lies beyond my thoughts. I see a soft October sun, mellowing the earth and preparing it for its long winter’s nap. The sky is a pastel brushed with clouds of creamy white. And I rest in that.
The possibility of renewal is always arising; to enter into that possibility is blissful. My hard drive crashed a week or so ago and I have been embroiled in the details of getting a new one. I lost a good ten years of material that could have been turned into books. Of course, they arose from within so how can they be lost. The words remain within. So I am trying to rest with the possibility of letting it all go and reaching for the new. But who knows what will happen when? Ramesh Balsekar answered a letter of mine some years ago. I asked if everything was destined, and he said, “Yes, but it is destined for the whole, not for any individual.”
The rising sun sets and rises again. The mind throws us off its back into the swamp and when we are ready, we rise up and go on again. I have found three snake skins at my door in the last couple of months. The third one was found soon after I got the brand new hard drive back. I have to acknowledge the synchronicity of this. It is time for me to let go again, and again, and again.