On Tuesdays I join a handful of silly, country women who write because they want to. Not one of them has hopes to be published, those whimsical desires are long gone.  They just write.

When we begin our 2 hour sessions, the leader of the pack draws a random phrase from an old ranchers hat and we write for 20".  This week the topic was "Ruined by Age & Decomposition."  Here's what my muses cranked out:

     "Crusty sawed off,"  Matt spit.  "He's got nothin' left in him to give."
     Matt turned his back and beckoned for Lady with a sharp whistle.  She obliged, but twisted her head back to offer Matt's father a reassurring plea.
     The radio blared before the door slammed.  Matt twisted the knob up to twist it off.  His lack of control for the simplest actions made him more angry, more desperate.  He pushed the gas with a heavy tap & thought for a moment, "Shit! Is it in drive?"
     He should have been looking down at the steering column or back, down the drive, but he was looking in the eyes of a man who'd written off Life too many years ago.
     Lady whined for the window and Matt responded lightly- grateful he wasn't hardened  yet.  A string of simply injustices filled his mind.  What would be the final blow?  What unfair act would put him over the edge and cause his soul to rot and decompose?
    Matt's father waited until the truck cleared the next turn, and he waited a bit more.  He stepped on the spit mark and twisted his boot.  He thought about the day his son was born and the day he died.  He tucked his hat over his brow.  He didn't need to see the path with his eyes; he knew the count. 
     He reached for the screen door and touched the broken points that Matt tore decades before.  He called toward the kitchen for his bride.
     "No supper, no time tonight, Lovey".
     He shuffled his damp, white socks toward the bed and removed his teeth.
     "These sheets are clean.  Thanks Lovey."
     The room was quiet.
     "It's been a long time since we shared this bed".
     He turned toward her pillow, shifted his weight so that he could lay where her impression should be.
     "Do you think our people will mind if I snore in heaven?"

My mind is me, amidst some stimulus-response distractions. 

If I go a step farther, your mind is mine, and mine is yours.  Boundaries are part of the temporal illusion.  

I'm glad to see there are so many responses who feel safe with their- ah-hem, my mind :)!

Patience. Patience. Patience.  In this life, I am learning patience- everything else falls behind this aptitude.

What I am becoming, is not what i am seeking but together, we are becoming more patient

Nothing.  The absence of stimulus. Peace.

These are all the same.

I labeled all of my thoughts and subsequent, correlate emotions for 9-months during my senior year of college.  After a short period, labeled thoughts and emotions were easily separated with a pause.  I found time and space to change my paths, divert my energies to create more optimum paths for my limbs. 

I didn't accomplish this feat through an ambitious vein, but out of a perceived necessity to achieve absolute objectivism.

Afterwards, "it" didn't feel like anything because I had to reapply feelings to thoughts.  Old feelings fell away; through 18 years of trials applications, my new mind has its own feelings.  Where there are few old feelings, they come through as one-dimensional labels.

For this new year we have decided to leave our meditation mileu for a debt-free existence.  We live in a place where other people vacation.  It is lovely but after only 18 months, life here has hit us with a harsh reality, "There's no way to get ahead." 

I think the answer is obvious- I've been moved to Earth!

Everyone knows, or let's assume, that humans have an energy force around their body.  Think about what it looks like right now.  How far out does it extend? 

This energy suit is the perimeter of energy that flows from inside your muscles and cells, and goes to the core of your soul.  I would go so far as to say that it is the effect of your soul churning around in metaphysical land.

Okay, let's get on with the question.  When you reach for something, this energy source is not congealed or strong enough to keep you from obtaining a material substance.  But how do you reach and draw back something that isn't made of material?  How do you reach for a non-physical being or substance without pushing it away?

I've read a dozen+ answers, in hopes that it would trigger what I stand for.  I dunno.  It seems along my journey, everytime I grasp a good ideal I get beat up trying to defend its goodness.  The Universe has taught me time and time again, "The only absolute is there are no absolutes."  Life is constantly evolving. 

I don't think there is any one thing, even a kind of thing, that we are suppose to hold above another- it all leads to war. 

After all my observations, the answer is... i stand for now. If I stand for an ideal, it may not fit "now" but I'd blindly defend it anyways. 

Here, I can't offer an example, because someone would take offense at the particulars of that example and we'd have an e-war about what I was trying to say.  Yes, there are people squabbling about personal principles in zaadz- hush my potty mouth!

I guess I stand for the ideal that all I have to do in Life is keep my ears open and breathe- or I'll miss a living moment while I'm trying to fix it.