I can't read more than a couple sentences of N.M. without reestablishing or reawakening mindfulness. But it is not mindfulness of thoughts and things so much as direct experience of the vacancy beyond or before them, just emptiness, of which I am but a current. I am an opening through which consciousness pours into manifestation.
A job is merely a necessity to keep the body-mind alive long enough to ripen into awareness. I wish I had known that and treated it so--would have saved a lot of heartburn. All's well that ends well, though.
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