Two days into reading 'Butterflies are free to fly' my life rearranged itself. My son lost his job. I have no idea how this is going to unravel. The exterior always changes when the interior changes. I am more relaxed than ever. I don’t have to worry about anything. What shows up will be the perfect match for us.
For the mind this is too much to handle. I am turning it over to the universe. It’s not my problem. I am here to play, not make decisions. Things are getting really simple.
Lately I find myself saying: ‘It’s not real.’ In the holographic universe nothing is real, it only appears real. It’s a mirage. This takes the edge off. I don’t have to do anything about anything. If I do something about it I make it real. When I don’t respond to a ‘problem’ I leave it at the level of energy and I breeze through it by transmuting it and it’s gone. I feel the energy of things, not the matter. Matter slows me down, energy speeds me up.
Space has expanded tremendously. All my activities are surrounded by so much S.P.A.C.E. Nothing matters. I only do what my body moves me to do, which isn’t much. I attend to whatever comes into this space. The universe does all the planning to the smallest detail. I do all the feeling. I no longer try to control anything.