Words are my drink of choice as well! Next to scotch… -OM
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the magic word for peace

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field.  I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.” — Rumi.

This is potent, to me. I drink up the words – they speak to the part of me that so desires stillness, and love. And clarity.

… “even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense” … it sounds like the end – the end of suffering. Of wanting. Of painful desires and pleasurable ones too.

I want to feel that.

I … I …I  …. See, I am so far away. I am still waiting for the word that follows “I am …” I cannot yet leave it as I Am.

Where to from here?

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