Nobody can make me happy. Somebody might make me conscious.
Home is not a house; it’s the present moment.
If we are not present, we are not at home.
The prodigal son awakened in a pig barn. Stunning, to find oneself at home in a pig barn.
No one told you? You are the most perfect boy—beautiful, unstained and innocent to the illimitable power of God. Such a thin disguise! Beneath this holed sheath of conditioned behaviours, habit and memory, you are. Namaste.