#nonduality — Public Fediverse posts on home.social

Robin Evans 🙏 @[email protected] · 2026-07-17 · 23:05 UTC

I WANTED GOD BY FRIDAY 💎

When I was young, I wanted the truth passionately.

I read all the books.

I listened to all the teachers.

I really tried to meditate.

I tried to forgive, though it was traditional forgiveness rather than ACIM forgiveness.

I had tried hard to become peaceful.

Ha!

Sometimes I even became quite good at the practice.

Then pride would enter the field and ravage everything.

It was not real yet.

I was too busy being young.

Too hungry.

Too frightened.

Too unhappy.

Too caught in the body, the world, sex, food, ambition, approval, and the endless hope that something or someone outside me would finally make life feel complete.

Preferably by Friday.

Unbeknownst to me, I was trying to get out of life before I had properly lived it.

That was a mistake.

Young people are not supposed to spend all their time trying to escape the world.

They should be f**king each other.

Making new art.

Creating new music.

Building new things.

Making old mistakes.

Loving badly, then better.

Getting their hearts broken.

Buying furniture that they already know they will regret.

Learning what matters by wasting enormous amounts of time on what does not.

That is practically the entire curriculum.

The practice came later for me.

Much later.

Not because I finally became spiritually special.

Because I finally became ready.

The body changed.

Appetite changed.

The need to be someone began to loosen its grip.

Life had already had its way with me.

Repeatedly.

Profoundly.

Without asking anybody’s permission.

And now, near the end of this life, looking toward the exit does not feel dramatic or sad.

There is no white robe.

No celestial choir.

No soft lighting.

It feels simple.

I am already halfway there.

I may as well breathe consciously and enjoy the view.

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#truth #books #teachers #meditate #forgiveness #peaceful

Robin Evans @[email protected] · 2026-07-01 · 03:46 UTC

DRESSED TO KILL

I used to look quite comically dishevelled.

There is no need to dress that up.

After the stroke, and after years in an obese body, I more or less gave up trying to dress properly. I wore badly fitting everything. Clothes were not helping. They were joining the argument against me.

They seemed to say, “This body cannot be dressed.”

So I stopped expecting much.

Going out in public then did not feel like being unnoticed. It felt more like being quietly assessed, quickly dismissed, or politely avoided.

A room full of people can feel like a row of silent witnesses when you already feel wrong inside your own clothes.

Then, slowly, something changed.

Fasting took some of the heaviness out of the body.

Breathwork changed the way I lived inside it.

Not dramatically. Not as a project. More like a daily return.

Breath by breath. Morning by morning. The body became less of an accusation and more of a place I could inhabit.

And now the clothes fit.

They sit properly. They do their job. They let me move through the room without adding commentary.

Maybe no one is looking.