It was a Wednesday. That much she was sure of. Coffee had been made, the window fogged with the breath of a passing storm. Anna stared at the rain. She should work. She should clean. She should decide.
But no decision came.
She watched her hand reach for the mug, warmth pressing into her palm. She had not “chosen” it. It simply happened. The idea of choosing didn’t even rise until after the sip had already coated her mouth.
Then the thought, “Why did I pick this mug?” But there was no answer. There never had been.
That’s when she noticed it: everything was happening without her. Not in some spiritual, floaty, abstract sense. Literally. Her body shifted in the chair. A yawn came. Her eyes blinked. Her thoughts narrated, but nothing obeyed them.
Her gaze flicked to the red umbrella in the corner. And without a thought, she stood, stepped into her boots, grabbed the umbrella, and walked out into the street.
The question of why came only after the splash of the first puddle.
She didn’t feel “inspired.” She wasn’t “following her bliss.” There was just a noticing of what life was doing. Her body walked left at the junction. Not right. There was no internal debate, no “should I go this way?” There was movement. And then a story about movement.
The umbrella opened with a satisfying snap. It felt heavy. Not metaphorically. Literally heavy. She felt the strain in her wrist. But she didn’t put it down. She didn’t choose not to. It just didn’t happen.
A dog barked behind a gate. Her heart jumped. That, too, just happened. No control. No suppression. Just bark—startle—recovery.
A man across the street dropped his groceries. Cans rolled. A bottle cracked.
She crossed over. Knelt. Gathered a tin of chickpeas. Her mouth said, “You okay?” before her mind could shape the thought. The man nodded. Thanked her. They both laughed at the absurdity of tomato sauce on the pavement.
Then her legs turned, and she was walking again.
She hadn’t decided to help him. She hadn’t weighed pros and cons. There was no internal council vote. It happened. Life unfolded, and her body had gone along with it.
This was the recognition.
There had never been an “I” doing the steering. Just a vast choreography of conditions—sounds, shapes, memories, impulses—none of them owned, none of them controlled.
All the suffering she’d carried was rooted in trying to take credit or blame for what never belonged to her.
The career she'd fought for, the relationships she'd clung to, the guilt, the pride, the shame—all constructed on a lie: I did this.
She crossed through the park. Wind tugged at the umbrella. She let it collapse, soaked instantly. But no frustration came. There was sensation—cold skin, wet hair—but no need to call it “bad.” There was no one there resisting it.
That’s what stunned her most: how adaptive everything was when left alone. Helping the man. Walking in the rain. Not because of a moral code, not because of “mindfulness,” but because there was no agenda corrupting the moment.
Back home, dripping on the mat, she looked at the umbrella.
Red. Wet. Still. Not a symbol. Not a metaphor. Just what it was.
Just like her.
Later, her friend would ask why she went out in the storm. She’d say, “I didn’t decide to. It just happened.”
And they’d laugh, maybe roll their eyes.
But she wouldn’t explain. There was nothing to explain. Life moved. And she—well, there was no “she.”
Only the movement.
Now pause. Sit still.
What in your own life today simply unfolded, without a chooser?
Trace one thing. See it.
Not the story—see the actuality of how it happened.
Notice what happens right now when you stop trying to direct experience.
Can you feel the movement already happening? The typing, the blinking, the shift in your seat?
Where is the chooser?
Can you find one?
Don’t answer with a concept.
LOOK.
For more pointers and suggestions, check out this link to vince-bot using the website as its knowledge base.
Vince Schubert YouTube Channel
Free online meetups every Saturday at 9 pm (Sydney Australia time)
and one each Monday 7 am ( Sydney Australia time)
and each Wednesday at 4 pm (Sydney Australia time)
and every Friday 7 am (Sydney time) - never published.
You can check your local time here:
Or visit the website for countdown timers to each meeting.
Please note that it's always the same time on the same link. Arriving late and leaving early is fine.
Click here to Join Zoom Meeting https://us02web.zoom.us/j/86991485768?pwd=WkIvNk9zS1Q0VlVMR3lENW12Um5DQT09
Here is a link to all of the published recordings.
Audio files can be found here:
There is also paid 1on1 (& also 2 on 1) guiding here: With vince &/or Marius
Although the website still requires a lot of work, there are resources here; WakingUpWithVince.com
..and more here; WakingUpWithMarius
Given the multitude of small costs (that add up to something significant) required to produce these offerings, please consider donating whatever you can comfortably afford. Moneys over and above running costs are directed to the establishment of Suan Jai Sanctuary.
..and remember - lots of little bits make a big bit. ❤️
✨🙏✨
❤️❤️❤️❤️