Total poverty
This morning I woke up poorer than poor.
Once again, owning absolutely nothing.
I don’t own anything material. None of the things here are mine. It can all disappear in an instant.
I don’t own any relationships. They are not under my control. They can all appear, change, and end at any moment.
I don’t own this body I woke up with. It has its own biochemistry, its own mechanisms and processes that I don’t know how to influence.
I don’t own any thoughts, fantasies, or ideas, whether they appear intermittently, or continuously, or just lurk in the background, not obvious at all. They arrive and depart on their own schedule, with their own content, not subject to my will.
I don’t own my consciousness, that which woke up again this morning, allowing a world to appear. I don’t have the on/off switch, and there’s no knowing if there will still be a world in the next moment.
I don’t own life, given as this experience, also possibly ending before the next breath. Nor can I find a separate someone doing any of the experiencing, perceiving, thinking, choosing, deciding, or acting.
I own nothing, not even a self.
Because I own nothing at all, I don’t carry the weight of any of it.
And so, I am free.
