Seeing to this,
Neglecting that,
Setting one thing against another...

Who is free of such cares?
When will they ever end?

Consider.

Without passion,
With dispassion,
Let go.

My child,
Rare is he, and blessed,
Who observes the ways of men
And gives up the desire
For pleasure and knowledge,
For life itself.

Nothing lasts.
Nothing is real.

It is all suffering,
Threefold affliction!
It is all beneath contempt.

Know this.
Give it up.
Be still.