Ironic huh?
We crave relief from suffering
Yet we grasp tightly to the details of our pains and stories.

Using them as reference points to prop up a familiar sense of a “me.”
Albeit, a me with pain and struggle.

We’ll do almost anything to attempt to have a defined self.
It is an innocent impulse to know who we are, however misguided.

So now, in this moment of your life, experiment …
Compassionately allowing for your life events to be –
Consider being here without those events creating a “me.”

Sound strange? If you’re willing, ask yourself …
What remains without being defined?

What remains beyond the mind’s rebellion against this experiment?
And beyond any impulse to hold on – or defend your suffering?
And beyond whatever is here next?

Take a breath. Lower your shoulders.

In the end, what is aware of this moment; your stories, the air
on your skin ...

... compassionately allowing what is – and yet not defined by any of it.

What remains that swallows all definitions?
What is here that a word can never touch?