Death is certainly in the small details of the egos.
This morning my mum picked these glorious orchids from her courtyard. Nice long stems with several pink beautiful firm and vibrant flowers - see below.
They looked so glorious on the long stem, like a spinal column with its virtues/lotuses (flowers) reaching upwards...
Then she got out her scissors and chopped them all up. Time to die!
Not a word and not even object mentally or think that she is doing something wrong blah blah...
That's to die in the small details. Life free in its movement, the orchids are happily cut down, by a happy lady and there plonked in the vase with the red roses. Distasteful, weird, "that's not how you do it!", "what planet are you from, that looks..." all have to go, peaceful smiles all round, life flows on.
Flowers wither and next they'll be in the bin, but better if they were in the compost heap, ah well time to die again!
End (3816).
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