Stop to experience your flesh, your mind, and your mysterious and sudden appearance in this world; awaken from your sleep.
Have no real thoughts today; accept just what is happening around you.
Imagine every experience as if it were either the very first or the very last time.
There is me! There is me!
The Buddhas are all WRONG!
There really is a thing called me,
I knew it all along!
For here I am, and I am now,
I’m real and I am tough,
and here is what I know somehow:
just being is enough!
I am here and I am strong,
and my ego is alive.
And anyone who says I’m wrong
is full of Eastern jive.
For now I know the truth about
that dirty word called I –
For now I know the world is just
a speck inside my Eye!
There is me, there is me,
my ego’s not a curse!
There is a me, there is a me,
I’m free and un-rehearsed!
And if you see ole god in heaven,
tell him I was up there first,
because I am here forever,
and I am the Universe.
Think of yourself as a movie – your life is the plot, and you’re the actor.
Now understand that’s all there is – a plot, a scene, and an actor.
…Oh, sorry, I forgot – there’s no you – you’re just the camera.
The who I was, is not the who I am.
Please tell whoever you are,
not to blame me for what I didn’t do back then.
When I become the who I shall be,
please don’t ask that person why I didn’t do what you want me to do right now.
By then, I’ll be neither who I was nor who I am.
You’ll only be hurting someone I’ll never be again.
So much trouble worrying about temporary things.
When Goldie was young, she ran away from everything threatening.
Later, too old to bother with running, she learned to complain.
Now, too old to bother with complaining, she’s learned patience and tolerance.
But there are still times when, pushed beyond reason,
she attacks with great credibility and gives no ground.
Goldie is my rock star.
A thorny bush is first to attract the farmer’s clearing axe.
If arguing is your way, your life will fill itself with arguments
If love is your way, your life will fill itself with love
Do not die with fear, or heart of stone
Do not weep because you’re all alone
Do not pray for one more day,
or to live again in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
Chief Aupumut – Mohican 1725 (via Mark Freeland)
(edited by stevenotice.wordpress.com)