Minding the Mind

My mind crawled up into my lap this morning. I was quite surprised. Like a puppy worn out from racing around in circles and then finding a sunny spot on the carpet to collapse.

I was the sun on the carpet for her. All I had to do was be there and let her rejuvenate. Oh, I knew what would happen when she woke up all rested and ready to go. During the day there would be tantrums and fretting and all that sort of thing. One expects that from the mind. It doesn’t know any better. It has not developed enough to know that there is more in life than her.

I look at her sleeping so sweetly. I could see angels around her. They only wanted one thing from her and that was beyond what she could presently give. So they waited patiently as she slept.

The mind is weightless, so heaviness was not a problem for me as she lay there curled up in a ball. The heaviness happens when she awakes and flies off on tangents. Then she is uncontrollable and very, very tiresome.

I sometimes go into a safe room where she cannot see me, but I am always aware of her. Oh, it looks like she is stirring from her sleep. I hear her thoughts as they quickly form around her, blocking her from any real rest.

She stands up, shakes off her slumber, and races into the kitchen. From then on, it is chaos.

If I am correct, you have one of these minds yourself. It’s one to a customer, as it were. It doesn’t matter if it is male or female, it acts like a whirlwind out to make mischief of one sort or another. If our minds meet, they usually end up in a tangle.

It’s a good thing we recognize each other by a power that reaches far beyond the mind. We don’t have to worry that the mind will ever do us harm. It is not a power in and of itself. It just thinks it is.

Maybe we can arrange a playdate for them so we can slip away and have some tea while they do the work they were created to do.

It’s all planned out anyway. The laws of love are just misdirecting the mind to see when they will finally figure this out. Come on into the kitchen and I’ll put the kettle on….

Vicki Woodyard

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