Of veils and forgettings


desolate path


It seems easier and safer on that path. After all, there are no threats or surprises. Only veils and forgettings, through which we can pass, effortlessly, without ever risking discomfort.

And the veils…oh the veils are many. Some quite appealing and very useful. Fluttering with importance.

We are so very strong on that path. Untouchable.

There is no before or after. There is only this moment, unlinked to any other. And then there is another ‘this moment’. And another. No story to forget or remember. Nothing to regret, nothing to hope for. Nothing to break, nothing to fix. Nothing to fight for, nothing to run from.

Ahhh…the relief. We are strong. So strong. And everything is just a veil or a forgetting. The path is clean. Neat. Well paved.

And in the unlikely event that something should stir…should a petal or a pebble or a tiny spark of light stray onto the path…we are prepared. Whatever comes will be  instantly and competently wrapped in a suitable veil.

Or, if it is a more persistent object, efficiently and permanently confined in a forgetting. Yes, it is easy and safe on that path.

Don’t go there. Ever.

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