flinging stones nor kisses
This was an eye-opener this morning to see myself as a stream flowing through a place-moment. There is no need to get caught up in my thoughts, emotions, even poetry, but only to see the passing. It is all as it is, good in its own way, filling its role. It is a misnomer. All is-ing, all good-ing, all filling. This loosens me in meditation/contemplation to see passing without clinging without flinging stones nor kisses.
:- Doug.
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