I fell in love with my chaotic mind.
“Don’t think too much,” they said.
But it was too late: I fell in love with my own thoughts. Yes, this one and that one. Give me that one one more time too.
“You are right, I am going to stop thinking.”
I am not. I love it.
Waves
“Energy comes in waves,” Mary says.
“In which wave are you?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” says the boy, “but I feel a giant urge to draw!”
“Lucky you,” Mary says. “This is your creative hour. Quick, grab the pencils.”
A few hours later, Mary is there again. “How are you doing?” she asks the boy.
“I don’t feel like drawing anymore,” says the boy.
“That means you ran out of creative energy,” Mary says. “What do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know,” says the boy, “but I feel a giant urge to run.”
“This is your running energy,” says Mary. “Quick, grab your shoes.”
After the running, Mary asks, “And where are you now?”
Hello, I am Mary, and my hobby is to daydream.
I like to ride my bike and think about things that are not really happening.
Buddhists do the opposite; they don’t like things that are not really happening. You could say they are afraid of daydreaming. They only want to think about things that are there.
So they say to themselves: “I’ll focus on my breathing.”
I think that’s cheating. Saying that to yourself is also something that doesn’t really exist, even if you are solely breathing.
It’s more relaxing to like daydreaming, because then you can be distracted the whole time without feeling bad. You don’t have a voice in your head saying, “I should focus.”
But when you say this to a Buddhist, they always find an excuse, like: “You are misinterpreting Buddhism, blah blah.” It doesn’t matter what you say; there is always a new excuse.
You can’t think only about things that exist; a part of your brain is always reserved for things that don’t exist. Let’s call it creativity.
If you only think about things that are really there, that is flat-out dangerous. You can’t anticipate what happens. You couldn’t anticipate jumping from a building, but if you only live in the here and now, you can’t anticipate.
Reflections
Nature can take any form.
Animals, humans, anything.
Therefore, we are, in a way, a reflection and an expression of an emotion, like an art form.
You can reach stages of consciousness where your thinking and movement become an art form in itself.
It’s like understanding that most depression is an expression of grief, or that the interior is a reflection of who somebody is.
If you are a fighter at heart, for instance, this will come out—good or bad—and every action will become a reflection of that.
The problem people have with evolution or science is not that they are wrong, but that they are too clinical a description of reality. You could argue, for instance, that science itself is reductionist, since it looks at generic traits in a population instead of focusing on the uniqueness of each individual. If you move from an individual standpoint, you could even argue that species don’t exist at all.