Being a beggar now all I had was time and time to ponder and think and think again. I found joy in nothingness and liberated did I feel with no burden of the world. Running away from my responsibility you can accuse, but who are we really responsible to is now what I thought. Like an onion we can peal layer after layer and yet find nothing or like a rose spread fragrance as we wither to our end.
Search for meaning of life is a vain; Meaning is to continue the search for life. To be so alive that we feel our feeling to it’s core. Love, hatred, jealousy, anger, compassion, passion and lust, all like a wind pass through us yet without making us their home. And when all the dust has settled and ripples cease to be created, in that silence of the pond, our true nature emerges. To be the vessel, to be an instrument and to be the river which quenches the thirst of all it touches.