SIMPLICITY

I am living in a farm, without neighbours, just trees, river, pond, flowers, silence, space, sky. Days are simple: if I am not facing the screen, preparing for some future that we never know if it will ever be realised, then walking cooking, cutting rose bushes, sitting in front of the fire, trying to learn one song in the guitar. At this moment, there is nothing else I aim or wish for.

It is easy to pretend humbleness, say I don’t know anything, surrendering to the mystery. As what I know is unknowable, so I keep sitting on the higher kingdom throne.

It is easy to classify existence according to esoteric transmissions, degrees of initiations, related to how much consciousness is integrated as infinite expansion. 

Isn’t consciousness all embracing? How can it be developed in stages?

Not easy to be in the simplicity of being a tiny speck of dust floating in the hugeness of life, with all the uncertainty of the winds blowing in the four directions, at the same time. 

Not so easy to confess being without reference points that define the goodness of my actions, that justify my arrogance in the name of saving the planet from unconsciousness.

And what did I do with that plastic bag? Where did I throw out the left-overs of my last meal? What made me buy something that I don’t need? How many times did I look at my phone habitually, randomly pushing buttons to avoid facing someone next to me? How many times have I repeated nonsense instead of being truthful and transparent in my oddness?

If it is not identification, nor my body, emotions, or heart… If it is not even my soul, nor anything else that I can define, that motivates my impulses, and thoughts… Who am I?

Can I just sit on the grass, watching the ants, looking at the sky, feeling utterly lost, being here plainly, one breath at the time? There is nothing more than this, neither contentment or discontentment, even though both can pass by like clouds, just no-interference releases the freedom of being one with the sky.