In all of my minimalist/essentialist teachings there is one thing I have a hard time with. I have a hard time letting go of a good book. Words cannot contain the truth, at best they can only point to it. Even after I have absorbed the teaching, I still have a tremendous amount of respect for the medium. Some things are worth keeping. Books bring me joy, but living the teaching brings me more.

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Banger truth Many years ago someone asked me what I was seeking in all the books? Me: wisdom Him: you know you already know everything in those books. You did even as a teenager Me: NAHHHHHHH Alas, he was right. It’s just been hard to bridge πŸŒ‰ who I was at various times in my life into a story that made sense … even to me. Hope this makes sense. And respect 🫑
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