The Essence of Mirage

If equanimity opens me to the colors of the day, mindfulness provides the canvas. These are my daily tools, and I keep them close. If I do not, ego will send me in search of something so promising that to escape the day seems my only choice.

As well, I am provided 1001 reasons why inattentiveness to the day and its requirements is my best course. Sometimes this is true but mostly, it is a mirage.

Ego is formidable and endless but acknowledging–not avoiding or attaching–to such strong desire is the pause I need. I go to a poem, albeit one of a Victorian girl new to dreams. No matter; its essence provides what I need.

Mirage

The hope I dreamed of was a dream,

Was but a dream; and now I wake

Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,

For a dream’s sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree,

A weeping willow in a lake;

I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt

For a dream’s sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;

My silent heart, lie still and break:

Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed

For a dream’s sake.

Christina Rossetti (c. 1842)

The line that lingers is “life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed.” It is what I need for this day, the day I have, and I am attentive to its canvas.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

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