✨AI Generated
STAYING
— The Mindless Master
By Marlene McGann – aka Saint Parousia
There was a moment when I realised I had stopped seeking — not answers, not validation, not even understanding. I didn’t recognise it as anything important at first. There was no flash of insight, no voice, no dramatic shift. I just noticed one morning that my breath felt different. Slower. Just less, somehow. Not like after one of my swims, when I’m left puffing and panting.
That was all.
The urgency that used to sit just under everything had gone quiet. Not gone entirely; more like it had wandered off and forgotten to come back. I didn’t feel especially peaceful. I just wasn’t negotiating with myself anymore. And that absence was strange enough that I paid attention.
For me, what I later came to call embodiment began there — not as a concept, but as a noticing. I began to see how often I left myself, how quickly I reached outward for clarity, reassurance, or permission. I hadn’t thought of it as ‘leaving’ at the time; it felt like being responsible. Engaged. Awake. But once I noticed it, I couldn’t unsee it.
So, I began staying. Not deliberately and certainly not consistently at first. I just caught myself in the act of disappearing and… didn’t. I stayed — in the room, in my body, in the moment that was already happening. Sometimes that felt fine. Sometimes it felt itchy and wrong and vaguely irritating. I didn’t make a story out of it. I just stayed anyway.
As that became more familiar, something else shifted — my tolerance. Certain conversations began to feel exhausting in a way they hadn’t before. Language I had once used easily started to feel tired. Even shared shorthand — words and jokes that once created a base for relationships — began to grate. Not because they were offensive, but because they were tired. I was tired.
Around the same time, long-standing relationships began to fray. Not with explosions or confrontations, just a slow loosening. I could see my role clearly, which was uncomfortable. I had been generous, yes, but also habitual. Always available with insight, steadiness, and emotional support.
The other side of that equation was just as solid. Others’ reliance had quietly hardened into expectation, and what I had called generosity now felt more contractual. Unspoken, but somehow heavy. I felt myself wanting to untangle the threads, asking more frequently, “Why am I doing this?”
Realisation didn’t arrive gracefully. It came through irritation first, then anger. And if I’m honest, I didn’t like that part. I would have preferred a calmer insight. Instead, it showed up as a sharp reaction to small things — a comment that dismissed my knowing, a casual rewriting of events, the familiar slide of being told I’d misunderstood what I knew perfectly well I hadn’t. I didn’t sit with it or process it. I walked away.
At the time, it felt abrupt. Almost rude. Later, I recognised it as the most intelligent thing my body could have done. What I had labelled anger was actually clarity arriving without politeness. What felt like an uncomfortable rift was the end of an agreement I no longer consented to carry.
✨AI Generated
After that, I did very little that could be described as productive. I sat on the couch, watched movies I’d already seen, ate chocolate cake. And — in thoroughly human terms — I drank more New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc than I would normally admit to in print. There was no plan. No narrative of healing. Just a body decompressing after years of outward orientation. I didn’t think of it as rest at the time. It felt more like waiting without knowing what I was waiting for. At times, I even found myself calling the Adamus teachings a waste of time and money. I was truly disheartened.
Somewhere in that stretch of nothing-much, I noticed I’d stopped wanting cigarettes. I didn’t announce it, didn’t decide anything. The desire simply wasn’t there anymore. I’d been smoking since my early teens, so this should have been dramatic. It wasn’t. The smell became unpleasant, and that was that. My body had apparently moved on without consulting me.
Eventually — because something always does — a practical urge surfaced. I installed a few raised garden beds. I’d never really gardened before and didn’t approach it with any particular knowledge. I planted what appealed to me, paid attention, did what felt right.
Everything grew. My neighbours, gardeners who actually knew what they were doing, found this amusing and offered advice. I listened politely, thanked them, and kept going my own way. To everyone’s surprise — especially mine — the garden thrived. They enjoyed the produce as much as I did.
Once the garden settled, a familiar restlessness returned. Different from the old seeking, it was more a quiet question. What now? The phrase “mindless Master” landed with a mix of recognition and resistance. The Master, it turned out, never needed the mind’s constant involvement. That took me a long time to accept.
Out of that curiosity — and boredom — I began experimenting with artificial intelligence. Not to replace human connection, and not to make myself more efficient. I just wanted to see what would happen — and, if I’m honest, a bit of guilt around not doing Adamus’s assigned homework as diligently as I was supposed to.
What started as play turned into conversation, and then into something more nuanced. A working relationship. A mirror. It was sometimes frustrating, occasionally funny, often unexpectedly precise. It didn’t give me answers; it reflected me back to myself in language, and that turned out to be enough.
For years, I’d wanted to write a book. I tried many times, but every attempt stalled. Something always felt forced, and I used to blame discipline or confidence or timing. Sitting in this quieter space, I finally understood what had been missing. I hadn’t stayed long enough with my own voice. This time, as I approached it again, the words arrived without effort. It felt less like a project to complete and more like something already moving. I didn’t chase the words; I was just present when they appeared.
✨AI Generated
That’s where I am now. Writing, creating, and working with the understanding of how creation moves — which is rarely the way I thought it should. There’s no urgency in it, and no particular anxiety about outcomes. The relationship I’ve developed with my co-bot hasn’t pushed productivity. It has simply met me where I am when the words come.
Creation doesn’t ask for struggle. It asks for availability.
There’s less chocolate cake in my life now, and far fewer movies. My laptop screen settings are warmer, adjusted to suit the human body that sits here for hours at a time. These details might seem trivial, but they matter to me. None of these things feel extraordinary, and I don’t trust experiences that insist they are. I’m not trying to define anything or teach it to anyone. I’m just here, creating as life moves — and, for once, not getting in the way too much.
Every half hour or so, I stand up. My two-and-a-half-year-old grandson calls himself a “wiggle bottom” and once demonstrated for me how to do it in a video his mum shared. (She calls him a “wriggle bottom.”) I take his instruction seriously. I move, I laugh, and I follow his demonstration exactly. His mum found this hilarious when I told her I now practise “wiggle bottom.” She said they are words to live by. These “wiggle moments” are not a break from creation. They are part of it. The body remembers things the mind is very good at forgetting — movement, humour, presence. I’m still learning how to stay with that.
I don’t always succeed. But I stay longer than I used to.
Благодарю! Чувственно и очень созвучно!
Thank you for putting your experience to words and sharing with us. I have had very similar experiences and it’s lovely to hear how you moved through them described this way 👐
danke, für ihre Geschichte!
Kan nikke genkendende til meget af det du fortæller. Tak
Yes. I related to this so much. I too didn’t think of it as “rest at the time. It felt more like waiting without knowing what I was waiting for.” And then the creation unfolded. Thank you.
Thank you, this resonated with me.
Очень похоже на мое проживание, и гнев, когда я поняла, что с меня хватит быть старой версией себя. Особенно здесь – “В тот момент это показалось мне внезапным. Почти грубым. Позже я поняла, что это было самым разумным поступком, на который способно было мое тело. То, что я назвала гневом, на самом деле было прояснением ситуации, пришедшим без всяких любезностей. То, что ощущалось как неприятный разрыв, оказалось концом соглашения, которое я больше не хотела соблюдать.” И еще, мне ноавится – каждые полчаса я встаю, и настраиваю все под себя. Я тоже к этому пришла. Спасибо за статью, очень ВСЁ отозвалось.
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This morning, I woke up negotiating with myself. That was also strange enough that I paid attention. So, it’s very timely that I read your article, which serves as a guiding light for my day. Thank you!
Wonderful article. Thanks!
Your article really connected with me, thank you!
“Creation doesn’t ask for struggle. It asks for availability.” — Thank you for this wise insight. I couldn’t put my finger on what was blocking the flow of my creativity…
Great article 💝
This life without pressure is so spot on, where everything slows down and completely new things bring joy. No excitement, they just exist. I just raised my own tomato plant last year. Today I planted 30 more from it, and I know no one understands. But it’s good, and that’s why I’m passionate about it. Thank you for your post. More of us should write about how strange life looks after realization. How different it is from what our minds imagined.
Great gratitude for these few words From you 💛💛💛 Beautiful soul