There was a penetrating quiet on the lake this evening. Off in the distance one could hear the sound of a loon calling its mate. That haunting yet enchanting sound pulls me back, into the days I was a teenager, full of piss and vinegar. The lake was like glass and one could see and hear a quiet motorboat off in the distance fishing. Every so often one could hear, coming across the water, the squeak of a dock being rocked by waves that quickly lessened in their intensity and rhythmically passed and hit the opposite shore.  Then silence would come again and all the earth seemed to be caught in the balance of that movement.

Why are we occupied with ourselves, morning and night? Thought moves from one thing to the next without tiring. Thought, rooted in the past, is always trying to take charge. by having options about this and that as if they really mean something, when in fact they only divide us from each other.

A warm breeze blew across the lake as it made tiny ripples in the water. One watched as it ascended and moved by. Our minds are like the water and thought is on the surface making some disturbance. We get caught up in the disturbance and forget about the depth and richness of the beauty of the mind. The mind is not Christian, Muslin, or Jew. It does not belong to any system or government or country. It is whole, fresh and undivided. It cannot be corrupted by money, fame, power or self-interest. Human beings spend so little time there because thought is dominant in our lives and we give all importance to it and it is the source of our unhappiness.

Thought can always change the variables in the same set and build another illusion. The difficulty is that the person feels that what one thinks is something new and profound. Then we make it into a reality for ourselves and cling to it because it gives us an image of who and what we think we are.  Any image we have of ourselves disturbs the surface of the mind and we are once again caught in the web of thought. To live without an image of oneself seems impossible and it may be! But to end all images, in yourself and about the other, is to find one’s daily disorder and free the mind from it.  That freedom is not a point of arrival but an act of perceiving one’s own deceptions and illusions without knowing what is true. But is not the breaking of the false the movement toward truth?

Small fish are jumping now in this lake of utter silence and clarity. When the brain is not chattering there to is silence and clarity. These can’t be sought or practiced. If they are, self is there again, following its own interest and cleverly using thought to maintain its own existence. Without the energy of the wind the lake is calm and clear. Without the energy passing through the cells of memory, the brain too is quiet and clear as all thought stops. The ending of the one is the beginning of something thought can’t touch or move towards. Words have no place here and afterwards thought is always trying to break in and capture it.

The sun is setting as it just touches the treetops in the horizon. Another day is slowly coming to an end. We are all in need of renewal every day. To set aside all the things thought has done but then to put meaning to this day is another illusion. Our days have no meaning but what we give to them and there too we are caught in a world of our own making. To face thought and all that it has done, to find peace when we are still at war in ourselves, is the state in which human beings are caught. In a crisis people come together and cooperate to find security, which is needed yet shallow. When we end the images we have of others and ourselves and thought is used only to assist love and compassion, then cooperation will be the intelligent way of living and a human beings shall be free.

The golden light fell upon the distant shore as the flock of geese heading south gave inspiring honks as different leaders took the head spot. The green of the shoreline was vibrant and soft. Another day ends here on this great planet. I am lucky because I love!

Coachbri

It was with me for several days. The walk in the cool damp air or watching a movie, or any distraction I tried could rescue me from my self. The I was front and center, feeling the mercy of my own condition. Self was strong and doing everything it could to keep itself alive. The mind was simply perceiving what the brain’s occupation is, was, and will always be – hiding from the fact of its mechanical limitation, imposed by its own self-centered thinking. One wanted something and the brain was driven to distraction and still is.

When the brain caught a hold of it’s own self-centered movement of trying to put meaning to the state one was in, fear of death arose. This too needs to be watched for fear is self, ego, meeting the illusion of its own making. The brain then began to demand pleasure and wanting another distraction again – sex, food, comparison, or some petty belief about itself.

Nothing in nature is ambitious, but thought is always trying to become something as a means to find some security. Everything must be held, and paid attention to. As the evening slowly dies I sit by the fire and listen to the soft music. Yes, just another distraction.

Coach bri