A sob in the wilderness

[Guest guest]

I was having a rough day a few days ago. Just seemed in a sour mood.

That evening I went for a walk and sat by a small waterfall.

I had been struggling with having coworkers who are stealing, lying,

sitting around, etc. It's so getting to me. But what's actually

getting to me is my story of it. I hate my story of them.

So I tried to open up, be open to possibly seeing it all another way.

And I found myself next to the blackboard, the blackboard that's

been appearing for awhile now. The one that's labeled 'WHAT I KNOW

FOR SURE.'

Someone/something has given me a big thick piece of chalk, and has

invited me to write on the board. But everytime I go to do that, I

find myself stopping, cuz I'm not really sure.

It seems such a certainty, people should not steal. But when I go to

write 'people should not steal,' I can't do it. That mustard seed

size doubt has crept in.

So that evening I again found myself at the board, and it became

clear I can't write anything on it. Nuthin. And suddenly all my

desires seemed to arise, desires/hopes/dreams. And it felt like I

was realizing maybe they would never come true. I don't know for

sure if they'll come to pass. Or that anything is helping me attain

them.

It felt really wrenching. Years and years, a lifetime of hopes and

dreams (and fears). Yeah, my fears are just the flip side of the

coin. Hope/fear - two sides of the same illusionary coin.

I was sitting next to a beautiful stream at the base of the falls,

and I found myself tossing my hopes and dreams into the stream.

Letting them go... floating off into the big lake. I loved that

stream, loved it enough to give it what my heart yearned for.

And yet maybe my heart yearns not to yearn anymore. To instead just

love what is.

I cried, sobbed, at times couldn't hardly get a breath in. Tears,

snot and drool running down my face, off my chin. You familiar with

that? And still it all kept surfacing. I found myself at one point

tossing in this blackboard and chalk. And what came to me was that

I was giving up my will. Not my will, by Thy will. Not sure what

that means, but that came to me. And I sobbed all the more.

Then a great peace came over me. I felt totally drained. I lay on

a big rock, listened to the stream and falls.

says who we are is that which is before the stories. I can

tell I still have stories, but that night I was letting them go

rather than writing more.

A few days later I bought a child's blackboard and chalk. In a few

days I'm gonna have a ceremony, actually tossing in the board and

chalk. You're all welcome.

No Board No More

[Guest guest]

Dear ,

Thank you for sharing this with us. I found it quite beautiful and

inspiring and true (my story).

I recently thought about how the mind is sort of like a blackboard.

Thoughts are written on the blackboard with chalk and appear to be

something; but when we erase the blackboard, it remains, as always

unchanged, blank. Still simply a blackboard. Nothing is really there.

Have fun tossing the blackboard and the chalk.

Blessings, Steve D.

>

> I was having a rough day a few days ago. Just seemed in a sour

mood.

>

> That evening I went for a walk and sat by a small waterfall.

>

> I had been struggling with having coworkers who are stealing,

lying,

> sitting around, etc. It's so getting to me. But what's actually

> getting to me is my story of it. I hate my story of them.

>

> So I tried to open up, be open to possibly seeing it all another

way.

>

> And I found myself next to the blackboard, the blackboard that's

> been appearing for awhile now. The one that's labeled 'WHAT I KNOW

> FOR SURE.'

>

> Someone/something has given me a big thick piece of chalk, and has

> invited me to write on the board. But everytime I go to do that, I

> find myself stopping, cuz I'm not really sure.

>

> It seems such a certainty, people should not steal. But when I go

to

> write 'people should not steal,' I can't do it. That mustard seed

> size doubt has crept in.

>

> So that evening I again found myself at the board, and it became

> clear I can't write anything on it. Nuthin. And suddenly all my

> desires seemed to arise, desires/hopes/dreams. And it felt like I

> was realizing maybe they would never come true. I don't know for

> sure if they'll come to pass. Or that anything is helping me attain

> them.

>

> It felt really wrenching. Years and years, a lifetime of hopes and

> dreams (and fears). Yeah, my fears are just the flip side of the

> coin. Hope/fear - two sides of the same illusionary coin.

>

> I was sitting next to a beautiful stream at the base of the falls,

> and I found myself tossing my hopes and dreams into the stream.

> Letting them go... floating off into the big lake. I loved that

> stream, loved it enough to give it what my heart yearned for.

>

> And yet maybe my heart yearns not to yearn anymore. To instead

just

> love what is.

>

> I cried, sobbed, at times couldn't hardly get a breath in. Tears,

> snot and drool running down my face, off my chin. You familiar

with

> that? And still it all kept surfacing. I found myself at one

point

> tossing in this blackboard and chalk. And what came to me was that

> I was giving up my will. Not my will, by Thy will. Not sure what

> that means, but that came to me. And I sobbed all the more.

>

> Then a great peace came over me. I felt totally drained. I lay on

> a big rock, listened to the stream and falls.

>

> says who we are is that which is before the stories. I can

> tell I still have stories, but that night I was letting them go

> rather than writing more.

>

> A few days later I bought a child's blackboard and chalk. In a few

> days I'm gonna have a ceremony, actually tossing in the board and

> chalk. You're all welcome.

>

> No Board No More

>