Ego dies when we accept the unacceptable, and when we do it now. Ego cannot die in the future.
We think we are doing things. Ego says, “I’ve done this!” But we are not doing things. Things are being done through us. Like leaves in autumn, we are being blown across the sky.
No one can teach us to yield. In the region of the heart, we’re autodidacts.
Rare is the man who has no dependencies and, therefore, no anxiety; who can let come what comes and let go what goes.
A good man is neither satisfied with himself nor dissatisfied with himself.
There is no problem with pleasure, none whatsoever. Until we want more of it. And then, furred and coal-eyed, there it is, a scurry of pain, of not having what we want.
Let come what comes, let go what goes.