Nothing is ever straightforward. Everything is a fucking paradox. Every question has not two but a multitude of answers.

Walking to the job of my dreams feels like being led to the gallows. I am not okay with a building being mismanaged, yet I pay to go to a country where they embrace decay. I felt soul dead in a prestigious job paying three times what I earn now, but I feel alive in this job where I am an essential worker, yet get treated like not.

An elderly patient is yelling at me because his constipation medication is not in stock, indignant with fear or helplessness, lost in aimless rage against nearing mortality, blocked physically and energetically — I can’t blame him because he is my karmic mirror, a reflection of me when I burn with anonymous anger. I used to be a walking emotional contagion. But now the buck stops with me.

Later, by accident, I nearly step under the speeding van, white wet from the winter rain, a white knight in the dark night. I briefly consider what relief would feel like. But I know I would just respawn in a different body, so no easy way out for me. And besides, I have not yet tried all the cake that I want and, most importantly, have not finished watching True Detective. And what am I here to do if not to eat cake and watch good films and TV shows?

I watch myself being yelled at. My “evil desires”, my reactive patterns are burning their way out, evaporating in the brilliant white light of love with a hellish hiss. Lots of noise out of nothing. The trick is not to be blinded back into reaction, freak out, get lost in the heat — I let them burn while I inch towards the eye of the storm where peace reigns. Contract and expand. Always remember to breathe, expand and stay expanded like a vast night sky.

Who knew, after all these years, that peace and expansion are the path. Love is somewhere further down the road, but I am not there yet. The pathless path. Mother of all paradoxes.

I feel desperately lost and profoundly found. Paralysed, frozen in the face of uncertainty, and dancing alive with the fluidity of the void. I feel like I could be done with it all right this moment and yet I look forward to tomorrow. Neither of the masks fit, no roles are left to play out, there is just raw me-ness pulsating in the centre of it all which is both self and no self, everything and nothing, timeless and relative. I am bliss, Spirit, Om. I am a pulsating fractal quantum. A deity and a devil. Two in one.
The only thing left to do is to stay calm, be at peace while the flames of karmic fires rage about us — they say “sun will rise in the evening.”