Restless heart, mindless spirit, driven to and fro across the landscape of the heart, without reservation, continuously searching the perimeter, scanning the horizon for something new.
Relentless in its intention, the yetzer hara attempts to deceive the soul into thinking that empty promises will amount to something, better than the rewards of diligence, perseverence, and adherence to a rule.
Yet, I know that my daily routine is arranged with respect towards Heaven, so that my soul may be lifted up above this mundane world. And, no amount of distractions may be permitted to prevail over what is Essential.
There is not a single blade of grass, that is actually greener on the other side of my sacred moments in time, nor, the place where I rest in solitude. Rather, it is the noisy jungle, outside of my Refuge, that will remain unexplored, for the sake of true sanctity.
You have still only scratched the surface, of your resistance towards a life lived, in due respect towards the Creator, and all of His creation, both animate and inanimate.
Yet, the greater challenge is to plummet the depths of your soul, by exposing the tainted layers of neglect that must be peeled away.
Like an archaeology dig, wherein every layer’s artifacts are carefully categorized, and stored away for further analysis. The soul is at the center, buried beneath the years of living a life unexamined, having carelessly made your way through the wilderness of childhood and young adulthood.
I believe that the only other opportunity that I would have to reflect, for as much time as I do, while sheltering in place, despite the lessening of restrictions, is if I lived in a monastery.
Here, in my quiet dwelling, a one room apartment, with everything I need, for constant contemplation, and no distractions, as l long as I have the fan on for background noise, or my earbuds, while listening to music without lyrics, I remain in stasis; yet, am able to plumb the depths of my soul.