Does living in the moment make one lose track of time?
Just cruisin' along here. Last week, Eckhart had a cold. How very
unspiritual of him. I took no notes, just sat back and watched.
Last night, I was even more relaxed, doodled, drew my cat, made disconnected notes.
But there was a phone call into the webcast that inspired this poem. Well, maybe too prosaic to be a poem, and not a terribly good poem, but, whatever.
I'm
so not attached.
I'm right.
Can't you see that?
Here, let me show you.
The evidence is here, and here, and here.
It's in these books on the shelf
with their gold and leather bindings.
It's here on the internet.
All the experts agree
with me.
I'm so right
I don't need to be right. So,
you are right. See?
I've evolved beyond such
egoic attachment. I can let go
of being right. There. It's gone.
But wait, let me
just show you this
one thing...
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