When I was a little kid, perhaps around 4, my family came into possession of a huge cardboard box. Naturally, much fun was had with it in the basement, as my friends and I would hide in and play with it. One day, it was gone. I asked my parents where it was, and they said they’d thrown it away. I went out to the garage and found it lying on the floor, flattened and sad and wet. I cried. For years after, when friends would be telling stories about their childhood that were supposed to be embarrassing or innocent, I told them about the time I cried over a cardboard box.
Now allow me to transcribe a passage from Dr. David Hawkins’ I: Reality and Subjectivity:
When seen correctly, garbage cans are not only lovable but beautiful and perfect. All blocks to love surface to be removed. The mind has to be trained so that it realizes that the only reason it sees the old garbage can as repulsive is because of its innate programming.
Continue reading ‘Garbage Can Zen’
Other posts by mike
