The only trouble is fear. The only freedom is freedom from worry.
Are we human sticky buns, glue-meisters clinging to persons, possessions and relationships? Trouble that way lies. Not that persons, possessions and relationships are inherently troublesome. Not at all. But stickiness? That’s the devil.
My father taught me to sail in a small, orange-sailed boat he built himself. “If you get into trouble out there,” he said, nodding to the Northumberland Strait, “just let go of everything.”
“Why are you troubled?”
Not by anything that happens but by my thoughts about what happens.
It’s just that, isn’t it? My difficulty is I cannot look at anything without thinking about it.