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Yer, that judgement thing. Who decides if we are a septic tank or a bowl of strawberries. Strange to watch the play of life around me and to notice our Human habit of judgement. Strange how the wind makes the trees dance and the sea keeps washing the shore. Strange how the beat of my heart continues when my mind has run off to play. No part of my surround offers judgement. These things continue to happen upon thee canvas of self experience. Would that I, could that I, know enough to judge any of those, this and anything upon the happenings. How can I see the beauty of life created at the darken recesses of a septic tank. Yet I know this beauty is there. Who decides, who is the appointed judge and jury ??? Answer …………………….. There is none, it’s an illusion. Play the game, eat the strawberries, promote the mysteries. . On Mar 18, 10:09 am, godszen <[email protected]> wrote: > Mark Ty-Wharton wrote: > > I am in fact the septic tank of my own experience LOL > > that's one way to put it....
