What if you stopped adding to yourself? What if the project of improvement took a single afternoon off and sat in the garden and did not compare the garden to other gardens?
What if your body were not a problem to be solved but a place to live? What if your mind with its noise and its weather were not broken but simply a mind?
What if this moment — this ordinary, unremarkable, never-to-be-repeated moment — were already what you have been looking for?
What if you, exactly as you are, right now, before the next achievement, before the apology you owe, before the version of yourself you are planning to become — what if you were enough?
You are. You always were. The looking was real. So is the finding.
— Free Your Mind
Read this slowly, a second time. And notice — not what you think about it, but what you feel. Notice if anything in you resists the last lines. That resistance is not a sign that they are wrong. It is a sign that somewhere, something has been working very hard to convince you otherwise.
The practice is not to fight the resistance. It is to hold both — the resistance and the truth the poem is pointing at — with equal gentleness. Both are here. The truth is more fundamental. And it is patient.
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