I've spent another day not doing much of anything except being an unmotivated layabout.
The zen tradition is that if you don't work, you don't eat. Well, I'm not working, or at least not working very much, but I am eating. Make of that what you will, or better yet, make nothing at all of it. Have no concept of making something of it. Don't even think 'it is what it is.'
I feel very fortunate to be in this space. I probably shouldn't have any feeling about it at all, at least not in terms of it being 'fortunate' or 'unfortunate.'
No concept of anything. No concept of even having or not having a concept.
Waaaugh.
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