Today is 12.2.12. Nothing special, just a nice arrangement of digits.
It was 11 days ago that I had announced that I would write a little something about how things are going in my life and all I could come up was 11 days of silence. Yes, I know I shouldn’t say things that I cannot bring to practice but it wasn’t for want of trying. The blank page would look back at me and talking about my little triumphs and disasters didn’t appeal to me much, and I would abandon my efforts. The events of life, they seem to come and pass quickly, talking about them would involve reliving the experience. And what would be the advantage of that? What has been experienced is gone. this moment holds a new experience. Right now, the experience of writing, the experience of exploring something new, following a new train of thought, going down a new path - all these are in the now, why talk about all the things gone by?
Anyway, before I ramble any more, let me say that right now I’m feeling very directionless, so very listless. I don’t know why. Must be drowsiness from last night late sleeping. On this lazy, languorous afternoon I feel like having a long conversation with someone intimate punctuated by long cozy silences. Just getting lost in the experience of losing myself, of losing my boundaries and floating, flying, scattering and doing it with someone who feels the same and who can share the experience of abandon. Of letting go. Of losing all bonds, even of the body and rising up like air and scattering and dissolving into nothingness.
Somehow, the experience of being alive in a body, with a mind and thoughts and things to do and places to go and outcomes to achieve and all the strings of the act of living seems like a burden. My soul wishes to be free, to leave this body, this world which is holding it back and be free. To melt back into nothingness and everythingness, to be nothing and everything, to be nowhere and everywhere. Yes, the burden of the body seems to be heavy, unbearably heavy. Choosing to experience worldly life seems to be a mistake. To willingly give up all that freedom and to be bound in a limited worldview, bound by time and space in a body that can move only so much feels like being in a prison.
Now it makes sense, the angst, the restlessness I felt all day. Maybe I don’t want to be here but rather be in the hereafter. Maybe my soul hears voices calling and is longing to join them. Maybe that’s why I was thinking about writing my will this morning. Not that it matters who gets my possessions, but just to make it easier for people left behind. Just yesterday I was thinking of a relative’s death and how lucky she was to be freed of her body-mind and to return to her natural state. Maybe that’s what has triggered my soul’s remembrance and its longing to be free. Or maybe it’s the afternoon’s languor, the deep, drowsy silence accentuated by the soft, low buzz of bees. The mind is lulled into half-sleep and in the awareness that opens up, the soul remembers its origins and longs to break free of its worldly chains and return to light and freedom.
But I guess some deeper, unknown reason keeps me here, in this body and mind. In this cauldron of experience, bubbling with desires and thoughts and feelings and pleasure and pain. Maybe now that I’ve glimpsed the vastness of the eternal, I can sit on the rim of the cauldron and watch the bubbling knowing that they are all just bubbles, some lasting longer than the others but all going to burst anyway. Someday, when I know it’s the right moment, I can step away from the cauldron and walk away. Until then, I must continue to be in the cauldron, tasting its juices, but aware that the bubbles are just that and nothing more.
Interesting, how restlessness on languorous summer afternoons can reveal things. I guess, all states of mind are leading us to some new insight, some discovery of truth, if we let them me and be still enough to allow the lesson to reveal itself.
The restlessness is gone, in its place is a peaceful detachment and stillness.
Anyway, before I ramble any more, let me say that right now I’m feeling very directionless, so very listless. I don’t know why. Must be drowsiness from last night late sleeping. On this lazy, languorous afternoon I feel like having a long conversation with someone intimate punctuated by long cozy silences. Just getting lost in the experience of losing myself, of losing my boundaries and floating, flying, scattering and doing it with someone who feels the same and who can share the experience of abandon. Of letting go. Of losing all bonds, even of the body and rising up like air and scattering and dissolving into nothingness.
Somehow, the experience of being alive in a body, with a mind and thoughts and things to do and places to go and outcomes to achieve and all the strings of the act of living seems like a burden. My soul wishes to be free, to leave this body, this world which is holding it back and be free. To melt back into nothingness and everythingness, to be nothing and everything, to be nowhere and everywhere. Yes, the burden of the body seems to be heavy, unbearably heavy. Choosing to experience worldly life seems to be a mistake. To willingly give up all that freedom and to be bound in a limited worldview, bound by time and space in a body that can move only so much feels like being in a prison.
Now it makes sense, the angst, the restlessness I felt all day. Maybe I don’t want to be here but rather be in the hereafter. Maybe my soul hears voices calling and is longing to join them. Maybe that’s why I was thinking about writing my will this morning. Not that it matters who gets my possessions, but just to make it easier for people left behind. Just yesterday I was thinking of a relative’s death and how lucky she was to be freed of her body-mind and to return to her natural state. Maybe that’s what has triggered my soul’s remembrance and its longing to be free. Or maybe it’s the afternoon’s languor, the deep, drowsy silence accentuated by the soft, low buzz of bees. The mind is lulled into half-sleep and in the awareness that opens up, the soul remembers its origins and longs to break free of its worldly chains and return to light and freedom.
But I guess some deeper, unknown reason keeps me here, in this body and mind. In this cauldron of experience, bubbling with desires and thoughts and feelings and pleasure and pain. Maybe now that I’ve glimpsed the vastness of the eternal, I can sit on the rim of the cauldron and watch the bubbling knowing that they are all just bubbles, some lasting longer than the others but all going to burst anyway. Someday, when I know it’s the right moment, I can step away from the cauldron and walk away. Until then, I must continue to be in the cauldron, tasting its juices, but aware that the bubbles are just that and nothing more.
Interesting, how restlessness on languorous summer afternoons can reveal things. I guess, all states of mind are leading us to some new insight, some discovery of truth, if we let them me and be still enough to allow the lesson to reveal itself.
The restlessness is gone, in its place is a peaceful detachment and stillness.
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