Guest Prompt: week 2, day 1
Coming to a Place of Not Knowing
No Mind, No Thoughts
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Transcribed, transfixed
Transmuted, transfigured alike
What was once no longer the same
What will be will be
Receive abundance and all its mystery
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Accepted by self
Allowing its flow
What was What is
It is present moment of the day
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Looking out, Looking In
Mirrored reality
Affixed to Great Mystery
These are my thoughts
Written upon a page
Helping me, Helping Thee.
But are they? Thoughts remaining fixed in black and white — if not for today, how long must this be? Just because they reached my thoughts, fingertips turning ideas into print, does that make them real? Can one not change thoughts a thousand times within a day?
At this moment in time, giving witness to personal thoughts as real as they have come this way, forefront thought processes, jumping out of shadows and doubt. Stumped again with each new day rising from the depths of my soul, collective sadness imparted upon my head, giving way to flooded gates opening and shedding layers of anguishing purpose-giving hatred or fearful thoughts.
Present-day reminded of no thought transpiring, mushin no shin, empty hands awaiting intent, embracing all possibilities, reminded yin or yan of thought transference Great Mystery remains. Yet under no circumstances giving in to thoughts, better choice of mastering them, passing through the frontal lobe next selection, spoken from our lips.
Or is it all made up anyway?
Emptied cup, mind following suit, made up historical facts believed once true, falsified reality forgiving self-inflicted vicious attacks, time to empty hands. Fully present are we, Stepping into the Canvas of Great Mysteries welcoming thoughtless, flowing love for all there is.
Back and forth between the battlefield going on upstairs, snapping fingers commanding all hands on deck, visceral passing of all memories, no mind opening the door for limitless possibilities. Calm as can be, tired lonesomeness passing away as if decaying corpuscles and rotting flesh were ever a thing.
As real as it may be, as falsified — it is also. Given name, labeled at birth, letting go of this my certificate stating everything as it should be. Onto the trails blazers go, cutting another track fresh forgotten letting go.
~ Ani Po
Coming to a place of no thoughts as they were never mine to begin with. Mushin no shin, without mind thoughtlessness giving way, choosing which dream imaginable, jumping on the bandwagon of self-mastery giving birth.
Thank you Diana C. and Sujona Chatterjee for this prompt
