Wonderful World of White

A wonderful world of white awaited me this morning. Beautiful, soft, and quiet. Sort of like meditation on a good day.

The world slows down to a whisper. Am i bored? Not much. Do i feel the impulse to move? Not really.

When the mind is dissatisfied, the body wants to move to escape that dissatisfaction. Or the mind throws up an entire stockade of thoughts--another escape.

Can i be satisfied with this wonderful world of white?