I’ve got that feeling again.
And I’ve had to check myself and remind myself, again and again, that I am not my thoughts.
I am not my thoughts.
I’ve been sinking deeper and deeper into myself. Deeper into the place where I believe I truly live. I used to go there regularly and at will. When I was younger. When I was still a child. Lately I’ve found myself trying to drift away to that place I used to go.
To be a child again is something I never thought I’d wish for but lately it’s all I seem to think about. To live again in a place of infinite possibility and joy (even in sadness). To go where spirit takes me and have a sense of be-ing. I didn’t know what I was feeling then but I remember not wanting to go to sleep at the end of a day because I wanted it to go on and on and on.
That feeling of be-ing.
But I wanted to grow up. I wanted to be a grown-up. That was my mistake. I should never have grown up.
I thought it would be different.
I thought there would be more be-ing.
How was I to know that be-ing would diminish?
Something happened. Maybe nothing happened.
I can’t get back there.
I always end up back here.
Nowhere.
just the crust 