When I am content with myself, I am not comparing myself to others, not judging them out of fear, and comfortable with my missteps.  I do not react in compulsive emotion to reduce conflict or save face.  I know my feet are on the path, whether solvent or sad, creative or cranky, hurting or happy.

But the mind is never still.  It chatters continuously about this and that should be here and there.  and vice versa.  And in reverse.  And contrariwise.  Inside, outside, upside down. 

Allowing the mind to wander like a madwoman in the woods, muttering to herself, is a practice.  She is not dangerous when I refrain from arguing with the insane.

Breathing slowly, I bow in honor.