Up. Down

New York, New York lyrics: “I’m number one / Top of the list / Head of the heap / King of the hill”

When we stand at the summit of personal achievement, there is only one way to go: Down.

Quiet eyes

The true man does not compete, has no ambition. His eyes are quiet.

Born to run

The thing to which we cling most tightly is our identity. Now our personal identity is micronic, a puff of spore. Eckhart Tolle calls it the dash between two dates on a headstone. But we fear losing it.  Being good boys—conditioned and conventionalized—we hit the ground running in a race to acquire as much as possible, so help us God.

“In a world of fugitives, the person taking the opposite direction will appear to run away.”

The inner journey

The man whose ambitions have been turned inside out, whose heart is drawn to the formless, will have increasingly less to do with the world of forms.

Happiness

This is the secret that time draws us away from: Nothing we can find, get, achieve or accumulate will make us happier than we are right now.