do nothing, even when there’s nothing.

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 I always forget that when the mind is empty, it’s for a beautiful reason. When the mind is shifting in fearsome unknowns and when there’s no ray of light to pierce through the fogginess, it’s best to wait for the right time, it’s compassionate to stay in trust until it’s there— for it always comes.

These past few weeks, I’ve again witnessed parts of myself that are ruled my ego. This side of me that restlessly pushes to the extremes when it’s lost and doesn’t know what to do, when there’s no productivity to be proud of and take pleasure in. I’ve seen my obsessions in new light and I come in forgiveness and repentance each time— I’m sorry.


I’m sorry for pushing through the idleness with so much harshness. I’m sorry for not trusting inspiration well enough and not believing in this feeble intuitive knowing that it will make sense in time. Repeatedly, I apologise for not taking heart in the time it takes for emergence of patterns and beauty. How much time will it take for me to truly feel at rest when things are in the making?


At the gateways of surrender, I smile and know— every cell of me remembers the vastness of receiving love. This is home, in closeness and distance, and even when it’s not.


Rest in the emptiness, dear heart.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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