I feel sorry. I feel sorry and I feel that I need to apologize. So I am sorry. I am sorry.

Sorry that I feel like I have figured things out and have allowed myself to compare myself to others because of the way I think and feel. Sorry that I compare my present self to past selves in order to force myself to continue to “be better”.

Sorry that I say things that perhaps I don’t quite understand because I am still attached to the idea of them. By this I mean that I really do believe the things I say and write about… but perhaps my lack of fully accepting them and surrendering to the simplicity of these things is caught up by how it makes me feel to realize that I am capable of believing things that go beyond what I thought that this life was about.

Pouring all of this out somehow makes me feel grateful. Grateful to the existence of everyone else that I feel the need to compare myself to. Not for the comparing bit but because of the fact that we are all here and that simple fact is driving me … now (since yesterday probably) to find space. Space within myself. The space where I am. I just am. I be.

If we can find the space where we can just be, if I can… and when I do (after the torture is over) then I can really approach every moment with no judgements. This is freedom of being.

Imagine a scenario where you could interact with a person as a completely blank canvas and yet still fully yourself. Imagine you could shatter the bubble (glass bubble I’m thinking) of the ego – of the idea of the self and the attachments that fuel what this image is made up of – and just be present with another being. If you could just burst that bubble and along with it any attachment to this world of dualities – happy/sad, rich/poor, fat/skinny, gay/straight, religious/non-religious, political/non-political. They are all one in the same.

They are all a part of this world that we as a human race have created. But what happens if you can find a way to acknowledge it and your place within it all, but remain committed to being here right now with no attachment to any of that at all? It is still a part of who you are but it is not you.

These are for me. And for you if you want. But somehow I feel I have to share them in this way in order for them to really be for me.

I am stuck on this – if I can accept now, then each moment is new and exists without judgement. If I don’t, then tomorrow is already filled with and by today.

Tainted. Why – when we are born a blank canvas… do we fill the need to fill it up? What is so scary about being blank.

Even though it is blank it is still full. Otherwise it wouldn’t exist.

Feeling supported tonight by the cyber world and grateful for that.

Talk soon,

B-