I give up trying to be perfect.
To be anyone actually. It's rather tiring and burdensome.
I release the mind from its self-imposed burdens.
Then joy arises like the beautiful scent of a flower.
Or like a clear fountain of water, a wellspring I forgot was there.
Could this be the way to samadhi?
A way to cross the flood without straining and without halting?
Without grasping.
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I give up trying to be perfect.
To be anyone actually. It's rather tiring and burdensome.
I release the mind from its self-imposed burdens.
Then joy arises like the beautiful scent of a flower.
Or like a clear fountain of water, a wellspring I forgot was there.
Could this be the way to samadhi?
A way to cross the flood without straining and without halting?
Without grasping.