The Window, the Book, and the Quiet Night

Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

Bhagavad Gita – reflection on suspicion
When the mind is clouded by doubt, peace does not rest;
suspicion is the fog that hides truth from within.

After writing the book, a new kind of clutter appeared.
Not objects.
Not rooms.
But people.
People clutter is messier than physical clutter.
It arrives disguised as kindness, curiosity, and concern
yet often carries judgment, intrusion, and unspoken questions:

What are you doing here?
Why are you like this?
Who do you think you are?

There was a moment standing by the window,
pulling the curtain aside just enough to see who was there.
That single act revealed displeasure, not outside, but inside.
A displease with being watched.
A quiet refusal to explain.
Xandra, in that moment, became a symbol.
Not a person to fight.
Not a presence to confront.

Just a reminder of how easily attention becomes disturbance.

And then something shifted.
Who cares?

I had already done my duty.
The book was written.
The truth was released.
The inner work was complete.

Peace does not require permission.
Harmony does not need an audience.
Whatever she does is not my burden.
Whatever others think is not my work.
Suspicion ended there.

The curtain closed not in anger,
but in completion.

That night, sleep came easily.

The other books followed their own path.
A supplier appeared.
Someone willing to help sell them.
No drama. No noise.
Because the real question was never:

Who is watching me?

The real question was always:
How many readers can this reach?
How many can be eased, steadied, healed by these words?

A book is not written for approval.
It is written as medicine.
When the cure finds its reader,
the author is already free.

Xandra did not appear again.
Not because she vanished
but because she no longer mattered.
People clutter cleared itself
the moment attachment ended.

Bhagavad Gita – reflection on inner freedom
One who acts without attachment,
anchored in inner clarity,
sleeps in peace even as the world moves around them.

The window remained.
The curtain remained.

But the need to look
was gone.
And that was freedom.