The Stream of Consciousness

For the last 30 years of my life, I sat and watched a bush outside the kitchen window. Not a single bucket list item was accomplished. No turmoil was created.

I was aware of time. It steadily passed. The sand steadily fell through the hourglass.

Did I waste my life because I didn’t “do” anything? Is that the core fear of the modern person? I am guilty of not doing.

My liturgy was watching the birds, or watching the leaves, or watching the snow melt. In this, I saw The Universe. We watched together.

The Stream of Consciousness flows steadily through me. The stream of Consciousness flows slowly, nearly imperceptible through the silence of my being. The stream is vast and so is my heart. The rocks don’t matter at all. My breathing, in and out, is the great bellows causing The Universe to slowly turn.

This is what is necessary in life: breathing.

Photo by James Wheeler on

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