The result of the fear induced by the objective context or, as is the case during the troubled times which surround the writing of these lines, by a political-media fabrication, is above all, a de-centering, an existence away from our axis.
The breath of fear disorients us and sends us in a distant, dry land, where life is a memory and the experience is degraded and painful.
Fear throws us into hell.
The strength of practice that we must then deploy to climb back to the center of our inner map can be immense, and the necessary effort then appears unrealizable, beyond our reach.
How can you be the center when you’re so off-center?
From these places of tortured existence, prayer remains the only compass, the only word, which we find somewhere deep in our pocket and which we unfold feverishly,
We then bring it to our lips, a few words of a lost child calling for help from the darkness and the cold.
The outskirt being, wandering, stuck in its periphery, calls for help from the Central Being.
©FJ April 2021
Recueils / Participation/ Groupe De Pratique
Notes & Silence 
… and calls to its own self; the peace and stability it has forgotten…
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne
so often, to long forgotten,
in my case.
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne