All these words, all these words. This blog, a sliver of the verbosity I wield, like a dual-edged sword — I must point it outward into the world, for if I contain the thoughts, the nearest point presses into my chest, drawing blood —
this is the harm of containing one’s thoughts when one’s dharma is word. the dharma of a bee is to pollinate, the dharma of the Sun is to shine, the dharma of a bird is to fly —
Identity based on what one does — the action is not the same as the identity, but it is a clue of identity, the purest expression of the self that exists —
this, for me, is what words are. I must communicate, must express myself, I must exercise my mind — to exercise the mind is, for me, exorcising the mind —
for all these words, let me listen more, that when I speak, I’ve truly something to say, that I not draw from an empty well. Reading and listening, the filling of the well. Speaking and writing, the outpouring.
But don’t you know that there are more ways to listen than through the verbal? Don’t you know that the expanses of language extend far beyond what the tongue weaves?
Meditation is placing one’s ear upon the pulse of creation. Meditation is the greatest act of listening — meditation is the act of clearing ourself out of the way, that we can listen unfettered by personal distortion. Meditation allows us to experience beauty with greater clarity, for to see things as they truly are is to bear witness to the sublime.
Meditation is the mind’s adaptogen, a medicine that adapts itself to the nature of the imbalance. Whether we are possessed of hyperopia or myopia, every breath of meditation is a step towards 20/20.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 