It's Sunday night, and you are "all alone" and you don't even feel like

want to escape into a movie
or even a book
and reading a good book
can be such a sweet travel to another world
another mind
another time

and you don't want to escape
but you don't feel so great
and the busy ness of work isn't around
to take your mind off your loneliness

and you have this suspicion that under
neath
the loneliness
is something worthwhile

you have this glimmer of courage that says:
you are enough
you
you
you are enough
without the movie
without the book
without the TV show
without the X there to nag and fight with
and even if it's nagging and fighting at least it's someone Else around

and that doesn't appeal to you

it's kind of quiet

and there's something a little scary about that
quiet
and something wonderful

the wonderful is a bit of a mystery to you
and you have this feeling
this intuition:
letting the the quiet talk to me
is a kind of food

food for my "soul"
whatever my soul is

and if you think about "soul,"
since it's beyond words,
your head kind of hurts
and it's annoying,
like trying to solve a puzzle in
Chinese
and you don't know Chinese

but when you just go with the feeling
that the "soul"
and this quiet ness
fed each other somehow
and you don't have to "know" how

especially since "knowing how"
is usually words
words in the head
doesn't not equal silence

and you are going to just
let this silence
feed something in
you
that you don't need
to name
and don't need to tell anyone about and
that's sweet relief

ah
ah
ah

welcome to self love

feeding yourself the food of solitude
and silence

so inexpensive
and so immensely valuable

rest into it

happy
evening

Chris

dancing is good 4

dancing is good for the soul
they say

and one is wise never to
listen too closely to they

and then again "they" may be
occasionally "right"

if "right" exists
and that's leaving the dancing floor

and now
we are on a computer page
and we have feet
and the feet have soles

can we sense our soles of our feet
as we read this

and can we imagine playing with the grass or the
living room floor or the dance floor with
our soles

so dancing surely is good
for our soles

and since they never say that,
or rarely,
it could be worth looking into

the way feet look;
the sensation of you
inside you
sensing you

right now

(and that's neither right nor left
nor right nor wrong,
but just plain old
moving along and changing changing
changing
right now)

bye for now

right now

wow

Extra for Tuesday, chapter 76 from the book

Chapter 75 was thinking about the difference between

what is Reality, and what I want from Reality,
and can there be healthy, non-grasping "wanting."

Here's chapter 76:

Who am I?

If we aren’t the wanting, wanting, “having to have it” thing, if we “do” but aren’t that activity that seems obsessed with filling and getting, who are we?

If we aren’t some image that wants to be filled and fortified and propped up, who are we?

Without our story, who are we?

If we go very quiet, quieter than any words to explain or say it, and get some experience of “ourselves,” what is it that we are experiencing?

Who are we?


A good fine immense question: Who am I?

And can the answer ever be in words?