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What owns me that I think I own?

My car owns me.

My house owns me.

My silly possessions own me

My clothes own me.

They own me because I care too much about losing them.

The parable of the monk who really liked his cup but always said “this cup is broken” stand outs. Once his cup did break, his acceptance was peacefully and automatic. That is the mind state that I need to cultivate with my “possessions”

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