Underneath my fears, peace abides.
Peace surrounds all things, surrounds all thought.
Every atom exists in space.
We are mostly space.
And yet it is that infinitesimally small fraction of the universe that we are obsessed with.
Thought and form are dreamlike, illusory by their very nature.
My mind thinks that space is not worth paying attention to.
Yet from space, from no-thing, everything is born.
It is the fountainhead of life.
I withdraw attention from things, from thoughts, and slowly put my attention on the vast, vibrant silence of the universe.
My soul is restored.
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