THE MIDDLE WAY
Where thoughts solemn dare to dwell
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I was sitting on my balcony with a warm mug of coffee and a cigarette while gazing at the birds in the sky.
Flying without a trace, free.
As these words dawned upon me, a kingfisher settled in the garden tree.
Every bird that takes flight in the sky, has to descend in the valley.
To Prey, to Rest.
Every mind that takes flight in the thoughts must descend in the thoughtlessness.
To Pray, to Rest.
We run after the success in life.
Everything at its peak is appreciated. Peak performance and zenith of success.
But what goes up has to come down, as that is the nature of the nature.
Lingers in the deep valley of contemplations — the mind labels it as boring.
Flight might induce a phase of excitement in the mind, Fall often create fear and anxiety.
Whereas, Fall is an opportunity to rise.
The ascend is nothing without the descend and descend is nothing without the ascend.
Test your worth in the deepest place and the darkest corner of life, so that you take a flight that is unparalleled to heights of mind, Where thoughts solemn dare to dwell.
This is a way to find bliss in both of them, by denying both of them.
A way that denies the progressions of the thoughts and skips the hesitations of the thoughtlessness.
Detached from the mind.
A flight without the thoughts. The middle way.
A turtle swinging in the ocean\’s deep waters might not know where it is going. But it reaches where it is supposed to reach.
Let go of the thoughts of your destination and let go of the thoughts of your failure.
Sail your ship of life into the unknown waters, let go of the stir.
It will find a shore that is a surprise. Ahhh!
Let go of the thoughts. You will arrive at the enlightened intent.
An evolutionary step in human existence, that frees you from the bondage of past, future, now and then. Life and death.
Nor this nor that
My job would have been easy if I were to write only about the roses in life.
I would have been better off with pessimism, which has a strong identity and speaks about the thorn in life.
But I pinch the stem of life right where the thorn ends and the rose starts.
Touching nor rose, nor the thorn.
Beauty is not crushed in the hands of life; life is not prickled by the thorns.
Just right where I can hold life, without being affected by the being, and yet rejoicing in every bit of it.
I hold it just right so that I can witness more and participate less.
If ever participation that is required of me is witnessing and letting go.
Things in life are neither good nor bad.
We hold them up to the standards of the ego mind and label them as good and bad.
The resistance created by the label creates friction in our lives. A fire.
We put our hands in the fire and complain that it burns and hurts, even after putting our hands in the water.
Never-ending story
The swing of good and bad, high and low; the flight and the descent is a never-ending story.
It has conflict and so we are so much engrossed in the intricacies of the story.
The story we live watching about life, stories that we tell ourselves why we cannot escape the theatre of these extremities.
Life is happening on the street outside the theatre.
We are busy with the story, for many lives and rebirths inside the theatre.
Once you understand that the images on the screen are illusions, shall we not lose interest in them?
When you see that everything that is moving is an illusion. You will be drawn towards something inside, that is not moving.
Constant.
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