This morning, I take a Sabbath rest from the work of thinking. For I am not my thoughts. I have thoughts, they come and go, but my thoughts are never who I Am. I am the silent wonder that embraces the universe before a single thought arises.
Thoughts arise and dissolve like bubbles on the surface of the ocean of silence. To have thoughts is not a problem. To be contained by thoughts is suffering.
The world can never make me unhappy. Only my judgments about the world make me unhappy. Perfect silence is the Last Judgment. It is always Now. When I take this Sabbath rest from judging the world, I finally see the peony blossoming in my garden.
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