“Thoughts are clouds, Vicky. They are not you. The cloud of wanting to die appears, and if you don’t grab it, it will eventually float away. The cloud that says I’m lazy and a coward and a phony to boot floats before you, and you can calmly watch it come and go. You are not the clouds or even the blue sky where clouds live. You are the sun behind them, giving light to all, and the sun is made up of goodness and kindness and life.”
