I sit by the window. There are birds in almost every branch of the trees, they are eating insects. They are so lightweight that the tips of the branches barely move when they sit on them. This is truly a worm feast.
A small bird is hopping on the lawn and picking up earthworms. It is admirable to see how smart it is catching the worms. The bird is very picky. It picks up the worms, one after another, without eating them. Maybe it is looking for the perfect size to feed its young ones. When the bird finds a worm it likes it flies away with it, in its mouth.
The trees stand in the garden as they have done for the past forty years.
I can feel, even see, the stillness behind the restlessness of the world. And I wonder this endless need for importance. This struggle is an obstacle to the peace we all seek for. Yet we do not let go of the ideas, the illusions; no matter what.
We collect us all kinds of projects to discuss and work on, only to create ourselves importance. We become workers, doctors, teachers, lawyers, ministers, merchants, fishermen and artists, something. Not only to earn our living, but first and foremost to provide us importance. To become something.
But more often than not the job is not enough so we look for something else. We become members in religious groups, practice meditation, and attend church gatherings and go to all kinds of other places that are supposed to bring us peace of mind. We do anything but stop here and now, in the moment, and be happy.
And thus we also do and do not everything possible and sometimes incredible things, to prevent diseases. We exercise, jog, swim, eat vitamins and health food, do not smoke, let sweets and cakes alone and etc. We collect us and deny us all sorts of things so we can be healthy. We do almost everything except enjoy being healthy.
Why is it not enough for us to be, without all?
We desire peace. But while our need for importance is what controls the search, it is conflict that we harvest.
It is our need for importance that causes and sustains war, famine and other forms of human grief. It controls all of our existence.
Strange, how we look past the simple facts.
We say it is important to be safe, healthy, happy, sensitive and all kinds of other things. That is our determination, our idea and we make extraordinary efforts to acquire it. To become something.
All but stop here and now and be it, whether it is called sickness or health, happiness or grief, good or bad.
To want something is a flight from reality. When we are in harmony with what is, we do not long for or want anything else.
We must know that if there was a situation or behavior that created us lasting happiness or health, we would all have it. Then we would all do just that.
Once we stop here and now and face reality, no matter what we call it, then disappears our importance and then we will stop fighting and fleeing from one to another.
Then we are in harmony with all there is, illness and health, happiness and unhappiness and then we seek and need nothing. Then we only are. Without all.
Like the small birds on the branches that gather the food and the thrush seeking earthworms. They have a shelter, feed their young and survive or not, but they do not seek for anything. If the wind is too much for them they blow away, otherwise not. They are just, what they are and do what they do.
They try not to inhibit or create anything. They are only, without a struggle.
Why is it not enough for us to be.