Judging, witnessing and awareness - Part 1

The mind, a tool we have at our disposal for experiencing the world around us is the source of both our joy as well as our misery. We put in an enormous amount of time and effort to enhance joy and lessen misery. They are relative to one another. It is hard to find someone who is in absolute joy or absolute misery. Most are somewhere in between with varying amounts of joy and misery at at given moment. Is this what life is all about? Balancing the scales and tipping it one way or another. Surely there must be more to life. Why would nature waste such a sophisticated creation such as the human body in order for us to play this game? The deeper meaning of life will always be hidden from us as long as we are not willing to give up this mechanical game of self torture, always seeking the other. When seeking ends, being starts. When being starts, judging stops. When judging stops, the mind gives itself up. 

Competition and cooperation

There isn’t much to compete for, the gift is equal

Life, comes in many colors, each hue with an unique attribute

If the shades of a rainbow didn’t cooperate

It’s beauty could never be revealed, there are many such

Hidden gems, very close and within reach, as scattered bits

They remain invisible in the mind, when there is no cooperation

Amongst thoughts, each one bears responsibility

For herding the errant ones, that create the sense of loss

And separateness, spurring competition with others to win

A fair appraisal from the world, a house with many mirrors

It reflects the inner, competition and cooperation become illusory

When the mirror of the world is no longer needed to see our gift

Analog and digital

The sweeping hands of time, wipe away the freshness

Of the young, slow and relentless, like an analog counter

Thinning the body, of collagen and hair, but it cannot reach

The mind, forever bound, in the dichotomy of likes and dislikes

Like the ones and zeros of the digital world, memories are arranged

As if through a binary algorithm, refreshed each time hands reach in

Every image gets either a thumbs up or thumbs down, the mind

Is a like a digital world, turning it back to its infancy, devoid of thought

Should be simple keystroke, for those who’ve mastered

It’s programming may be wiped away, having been in the game this long

Fingers freeze at the button, the mind may afraid of the day after, and content

To let time tick, forgetting the instant reset that is destined to come

Evolution and revolution

The outcome of the slow crawl of evolution, our body

Can only take us so far, fragile and needy, losing head to head

Matchups in the wild, more than made up by another gift, the mind

It has picked us up from a dead end road of evolution, time will not

Let us see what’s ahead for the body, perhaps nothing more

We will never know, the mind may be entered when the body is forgotten

It has taken over the world through a revolution, the spoils have made

The mind supreme, it’s agent has been embedded within us all

The ego, any thought of revolt sparks a quick reprisal, with no way out

Of the mind, we are forced to retreat to the body, a sinking ship

We are unjustly imprisoned by the mind, it can be overthrown by a revolution

Which may be plotted from these very confines, what we call the pinnacle of evolution

Inner and outer

The garment, simple at first, becomes more intricate

With each passing day, encrusted with gems that can only be seen in dreams

Making it appear grander, and not content to just cover one’s back

It spills into the world, the outer, whose development

Has been fastidiously fostered, the baton has never been dropped

In recorded history, while the inner lays undeveloped, harking of an age

When stone was gold, those who persevere within are exalted

As superhumans, improving the outer is easy when there is collective will

Of which there isn’t a shortage, the work performed outside brings

Enjoyment within, but cannot reveal the inner, it is a lonesome task

When that’s done, one discovers what it is to be a true human

The one who has cast off the garment dividing the outer and the inner

Talking and listening

Trees, mountains, rivers and even the stars

Stand in awe of the great silence, that speaks

Through them, heard if one can listen forgetting one’s ears

They aren’t meant for listening, that happens deeper within

Well below the din and chatter of a talkative mind

Which sees the world through its own eyes

Creating a confusing spectacle, a true listener

Also speaks through the tongue of silence, it is both ancient

And contemporary, using a language that transcends

The world we receive as sophisticated noise, talking and listening

Isn’t a special art, it’s already perfected and ready, for our use

Lost in the sounds of cresting waves, we have forgotten

Perfection and imperfection

Life isn’t a dead end, but perfection is, once achieved

It is hard to turn back or look the other way

It is the road to disappointment, leaving us asking for more

The end cannot be seen, the mind is a poor barometer

The infinite uses the tool of imperfection, it is the key

To everything that is playing out, with just a glimpse

How may one fathom that scale? With or without the hands of time

Growth can never stop, like the deep blue sky, without beginning or end

The mind should know better, desires mimic that expanse

It has not perfected the art of quenching its thirst

Imperfections offer a glimpse of inner beauty, but we source pain from it

Happiness is found in growing out of imperfection, not resting in perfection