I once feared that my ideas could be stolen as if I owned the binary sequence that form them into reality.
I used to harbour jealousy because it was easier to react that way then to rationalise my insecurities.
I was fearful I never new enough, because I allowed an appearance to teach that I was not enough.
I would think I never had money while ignoring my already privileged life.
When I didn’t hit my goals, I felt guilty rather than humility.
.. Everything kind of washes away when you let go of the instant resistance to everything that allows interrogation.
For me, it took a big stick to the head, to the chest and to the gut.
I no longer care for myself in the way that I once had been conditioned.
Always give to those with a subtle expectation of return.. classic westernised way of living syndrome.
Any time anything in the form of consumerism or lack tries to show up, my parents reappear.
Then I remember one thing,
Nothing is mine.
Never was, never will be.
To show up and love. That’s all that’s left.
I love you even after all you’ve been through.
I love you even though I don’t know you.
I love you even when you killed millions of people.
I don’t care for what the rest of the world quarrels over.
I’ve seen them all die long before they even thought about it.
– Once Upon An Experience
By Claudio Conte