«Όπως στην αρχή, έτσι στη μέση, έτσι στο τέλος»

(The saying above holds so, so much truth, and it is also very, very relevant to the process of awakening or the soul and hero/heroine’s journeys we embark on. Initially, I thought it came from the bible, but it is a Buddhist saying)

Resistance

as stillness and surface calm; as avoidance and anxiety; as perfectionism and procrastination; as distractedness and disengagement; as numbness and fatigue; as sympathetic responses and despair; as physical sensations and symptoms; as inactivity and inertia; as dampened enthusiasm and confidence; as disconnect and broken continuity; as time running out and imminent death; as internal censorship and as not picking yourself; as giving up on you one more time; as not completing the circle one more time; as unfinished business; as a pause in the story; as wavering faith; as abandonment and disruption; as in the beginning so in the end

like unfinished paintings; like misplaced drawings; like spilled paint; like journals that have gone astray; like settling; like mist and heavy dark clouds; like a rubber band; like tripping over; like irrelevant conversations; like toxic communications; like ambulance vehicles; like noise pollution; like firing of guns and birds crashing on the ground; like a surreal scene from a movie – humanoid cell phones running around you; like a wall of people signaling you to STOP; like a horse being broken in the name of training; like some of your teachers’ old instructions; like a dripping tap; like a bucket full of shit and old boxes you’ve meant to discard; like fear of throwing up; like stuck in an elevator; like a closed pen gate; like a brick wall

Rubber bands break; misplaced drawings are found; settling becomes movement; constriction allows for expansion; mist evaporates; clouds shift and the sun comes out; if you trip you get up again or you catch your balance just in time and you feel gratitude for the grace of the so many  just in time instances; the elevator starts moving again; the horse breaks free; buckets and boxes can be discarded; you finally throw up and you simply clean up the mess, throw out the rug; brick walls crumble and the pen gate eventually opens and those old teachers are probably dead anyway