If anyone had told me that one fine now ‘my’ mind would fall like a feather into a flow of not-minding I’d have told them to sod off.

I loved minding everything: how I looked, what I believed, how others should look and behave, how my life and the world should be.

I loved all the opinions, the stories and self-righteousness.

I loved my choices, my decisions, my ‘personal power'(!)

Well, well, well.

Don’t ask me what happened. I can spin stories about what went before and after, but as to what actually heaved the minding-mind from its default mode, I’m clueless.

A clueless “feather on the breath of God.”

And I don’t mind one bit.

– miriam louisa

Image: Swan feather floating on Hatchet Pond, Hampshire, England, by Jim Champion.