Beauty for contemplatives looks like this.
I see diamonds on the surface of the sea nearly everyday as I walk there.
I want to live on the edge of the sea so that I can see it every day. The clouds paint the sunset there every night.
When you have been reduced to nothingness you see everything, and this is what happened to me.
The last decade was about non-attachment.
Non-attachment to the constant drive of the ego, non-attachment to people as they began to die off one by one.
Whole realms of existence are things I have had to give up. It’s like some kind of vow or something in a way.
Anyway, for years I listened and listened to yoga teachers on all that.
So the last decade was about detachment, except I would like to be attached to a few things, so that has changed for me.
For one thing?
A different house so I can see the ocean.
A smallish garden.
I want to wake up in bed listening to the sea crash below. I want to make a slow cup of coffee and gaze out over it. I want to plant a few trees and have a garden again. I just want my own power back that has been stripped from me. Here, I have no say in anything at all. When I try and express a need it is like talking to a blank wall. It really is.
So, in all this quiet contemplation I wrote two books and now they are for sale.
I think it’s a little like realizing that you have to let go to get what you might want for yourself?
So, this is what I have to do.
Write a bio.
Write a two page synopsis.
Reformat the books into three PDF’s.
My early short stories were all published over at Cleansheets and the Erotica Readers Association.
I need to sell my two books.
This morning, sitting here having coffee and looking out the window at the light along the leaves and the small birds ruffling through the branches I just want to make that life for myself.
Hopefully it can happen.
Hopefully I can be free.