All this conditioning
This mental slavery
With its righteous beliefs
And rigid opinions
Obscures the natural light within
From pouring forth into the world

In this rather sorry state
Everything about us is functional
And almost robotic
There is no art of being
No inner beauty or radiance

A great sadness must arise
An inner intuition, a hunch,
That there is something more
It doesn’t matter what you call it

But it sets off a cascade
A movement from within
And an unravelling of the knots
That bind us to ourselves
A cleansing of the psyche
A great detoxification

Oh! this is the beauty of it all
The gradual unfolding of the wings
The waking up of the sleeping one
Don’t be in such a hurry
To get to the destination
There is no destination
Only mystery and falling
Into the unknown

This is the art of being.

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash