“With my last breath, I’ll exhale my love for you. I hope it’s a cold day, so you can see what you meant to me.
”
― Jarod Kintz, This is the best book I’ve ever written, and it still sucks

The mind likes to yak. And the yak is a beast of burden. If no one is around, the mind yaks on, not listening to itself at all. This sort of behavior comes with the packaging. We judge people by their packaging; it is the best we can do when we are asleep.

Oh, yes, we are all asleep, but not Sleeping Beauties, as my teacher pointed out. He went further and said that the only difference in sleeping people is how they snore.

I got up this morning primed for my Saturday duties. I wanted to stay awake, to stay silent as long as I could. So I ate my usual bowl of peach oatmeal. I used a small white bowl that is meant to be part of a serving set. Six bowls sit in a wrought-iron stand but I don’t entertain. So I had this genius idea to use the bowls for my breakfast foods. And they work beautifully. Always think outside the box….

See how I am yakking at you in the form of this note? Where was I? Being on the path, I usually mix in an assortment of wisdom with my yakking. It doesn’t seem to matter which jewels I pull from the old patch pocket of my robe; they all shine like the sun. I will throw one your way in hopes you are awake enough to catch it.

“Go through your day experiencing every useless thought and emotion.”

This maxim makes a difference in the level of your being. For when you know you are yakking to yourself in an empty room, you become born again. Fresh like the air flowing around your ankles in the January cold.

I want to wind this up by saying that I love to write. But often I write mechanically, as we all do. The genius of God is that He is able to sneak in truth, hopefully enough so that you will get the whiff of fresh air that is not coming from your own nostrils. This is called the breath of God.

Vicki Woodyard