Sunday Squibs

 

Discreet from me

-The Trinity 

Yet through me run

Father, Spirit and the Son

The tourist sees the resort as a place of fun, luxury, and relaxation.

Management sees it as a place of headaches and crises one after the other. 

While profits too small give ownership an ulcer. 

Shouldn’t we recognize an addiction to high-end luxury products as a disease and stop calling its victims snobs?

The fly in my meditation’s ointment: 

Did I remember to set the timer?

You crash land on a couple’s conversation:

The one resents your intrusion,

The other likes the variation

Experience is the air that fills the balloon of our lives. The genius uses helium. 

The  meditating person is like a spider. Things keep banging into her web, but she sits motionless, focusing on her breath…in and out…repeating her mantra: “damnflies…damnflies…damnflies…”

Once the solstice passes, my mood is of one underneath a sled onto which stones are slowly being piled.

The best teachers are those who can remember their own mistakes while acquiring the skills they hope to share.

You’re good at some things

Hopeless at others

You’re average among

All the sisters and brothers

A reality check is when your pride bubble is leveled out by healthy humiliations. 

The bubble in your level goes this way with pride and that with humiliation. You decide when it’s level.