Writing can be an incredible mindfulness practice.

Arriving someplace more desirable at some future time is an illusion. This is it.

It is a form of violence, to not see a being for who he or she really is. You think, "Oh, that's my son." But the lens, "my son," completely obliterates the multi- dimensions of that being. Maybe you only see your disappointments in that child, or you aspirations for that child, but that's not the child.

You might be tempted to avoid the messiness of daily living for the tranquility of stillness and peacefulness. This of course would be an attachment to stillness, and like any strong attachment, it leads to delusion. It arrests development and short-circuits the cultivation of wisdom.

It is indeed a radical act of love just to sit down and be quiet for a time by yourself.

Intelligence is the door to freedom and alert attention is the mother of intelligence.

See If You Can Give Yourself Gifts That May Be True Blessings, Such As Self-Acceptance