A Quiet Mind In tumultuous times

tobetada (70)in #philosophy • 5 years ago

You probably woke up this morning and your thoughts started spinning.

Thoughts about your past and thoughts about your future.

Thoughts about your self and thoughts about the world

Thoughts about your fears and thoughts about your dreams

Very rarely is there that quality of silence.

Very rarely is the mind quiet, not chasing after some thought, some impulse or reacting to a stimulus

Very rarely are we at peace

The mind needs to be quiet in under to function. If it is constantly reacting and trying to solve daily problems, pondering over life’s travails, confronted with war and crime and greed it gradually but surely wears out. It might even stop functioning properly or even break down.

The longer it is within this circle of conflict the more difficult it becomes to break out of it. And the longer it goes on, the more normal all of this seems. After all, everyone seems to be stuck in all of this mess.

Often I see people who have become completely dependent on this stream of thought. After they wake up, they turn on the radio or turn on the music. Sometimes they have just barely gotten out of bed and are already starting to watch one of their favorite TV shows or series.

There is no break in the that stream of thought. From the moment they close their eyes to the moment they open them again, there is that noise, that constant chatter. Even in the sleep this goes on and manifests itself as dreams. Dreams are also that stream of thought, although they may also be more.

Only very rarely does that stream of thought stop. It may be in an extraordinary moment of beauty when the mind becomes briefly quiet. The chatter stops and there is only that otherness. That which cannot be described. When there is beauty we may feel overwhelmed with something that feels completely new, completely fresh and unspoiled. The chatter stops for that moment and the mind becomes quiet.

In such a moment the mind starts to rejuvenate. It recovers from the constant tear and wear of that stream of thought. That constant battle with itself and the world.