The Good Life

The air is soft around me as I sit here, writing these words.

All is quiet, save for the sounds of nature.

There is nowhere else I would rather be.

Life takes on a new shape when I allow it to happen without interfering.

Things happen around me, but I am no longer weighed down by them.

Disturbance can only arise for the one who invites it.

Few people in history have truly come to understand the good life.

They tasted it, while most people only dream of it.

They discovered the secrets.

People are full of desire.

They are very attached to the world.

Because they are attached, they suffer.

Everything that happens produces a reaction.

They are always running towards one thing, and away from another.

Nothing is ever fine as it is.

The consequences of living this way are incalculable.

So much so that I have left that life behind.

The good life does not consist of material possessions.

Neither does it consist of few wants.

Such things are conditional.

Being conditional, they are unreliable.

Of what use is happiness if it is with you one moment and gone the next?

Of what use is material comfort if one constantly fears losing it?

The secret to the good life is unconditionality.

This is something that no one can take from you.

This is something that nothing can shatter.

It is, by definition, untouchable.

As I sit here, looking out my window, I know in my heart that I could die without regret.

I know that my home could burn down, and I would walk gracefully through the flames.

Hurriedly, perhaps. But gracefully.

When a person clings to nothing, how can life possibly cause him misery?

When a person insists on having peace, regardless of circumstance, how could anything stand in his way?

It is in looking for the good life that one tends to miss it.

Stop searching, and perhaps then you will find it.