We love our stories

We love our stories. That is why in listening, we are listening to our story and in fact, we are not listening at all.
We are listening to the past which repeats itself: Me, me, me…her, her, her…
That is the story. Always me, him, her.
What is this me? We are so fascinated by it. But what is it? Do we ask ourself this question? We don’t.
We are on the loopy train tracks of me and we imagine we are having a relationship but we are not. We are relating inside a bubble of imagined dreams where we have mistaken ourself to be something inside the bubble.
Step out. You are not inside a bubble. You are not any dream character.
Notice the awareness and not just the thoughts and images that appear and disappear.
Know your(true)self so the unhappy charade can come to its end.

Image may contain: one or more people and people sitting

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