Love in its everyday clothes is kindness. To friends and family? Heck, no. Even the deranged and the desperate practice transactional kindness. True kindness flies straight to the dude in the ditch. It’s spontaneous and unattached. It hasn’t any protocols. It doesn’t want anything.
If I am buffeted by fear, it’s not because of some condition or circumstance. It’s because I’m ignorant. I think I’m a chihuahua. The obstacles to self-knowing are past and future. We are timeless, you and I. Unidentified and unattached. Our GPS is the tip of the spear.
The true man is quiet. He does not want things to be different than they are.
Let’s view our thoughts from a distance, with the non-reactive interest of a nephrologist surveying a cloudscape. What he sees is, well, what he sees. Here comes a cumulonimbus. There goes a cumulonimbus.
Men's Work 