A Lesson from the Spirit

You give great importance to fuss.
Fuss does not honor you, nor bow to you. Fuss quietly waits out the time you waste.
Where you fuss, where you hurry and rush, know that on the other side your anxiety and haste slowly lie in wait.
As if driven into a trap, you become possessed by a certain idea, a scheme, hurrying to do something in a rush, to write in an illegible hand. You only surrender that time to the fuss in vain, exhausting your own well of knowledge and skill.
Sane thoughts visit less often, and a viscous heaviness sits upon the heart.
Do not fuss where they expect you to, as a gift, so that you cannot see something important and valuable, so that you become lost in your own labyrinth, created from the seals and prohibitions you once set for yourself as traps.
These are traps of time, many of them, as many as you have allowed yourself to create. And each of them catches your mood and holds you precisely when you most strive to break free.
Do not fuss; let go, stop. It is like quicksand — every nervous movement, every fussy thought, every fleeting impulse only brings you deeper into the abyss.
As soon as you stop and catch your inner gaze upon yourself, focusing on your true feelings, healing the wounds of the soul, you will come to peace, and you will notice those traps beginning to dissolve one by one, releasing you into your free expression of will.

And you travel this path not looking back at the past, not in fear, but you come there as to your own home. Where you are part of that home, part of its history, its builder, architect, creator, and the one who fills that house with goodness, carefully kept Love and the Light of the Creator Himself.
And the light you have kindled in that house is the light reflected from the road you walk, as something familiar, as a place where you step with confidence, unafraid, unfrightened, where you understand and accept yourself and the world around you, where you are an important part of the house you once built in the depths of your soul.