I went through a phase in my life when I tried diligently to
meditate, but it didn’t work. I kept going off on mental journeys and got
wrapped up in the experiences. I remember there was one in which I found myself
flying over some cliffs and across the sea. I came to an island with a cave at
the base into which I flew, and then continued through subterranean caverns
before re-emerging and flying back to land. And then I climbed onto the roof of
a white building and talked to a crowd of people gathered on the space in front
of it. I don’t remember what I talked about; I don’t suppose it matters.
I sometimes wonder whether I should have been a writer.
2 comments:
I wonder the same thing.
My mom is worried about you. Hope all is well.
Perhaps you would thank your mother for me and tell her there is no cause for concern.
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