A different type of answer

What happens when you don’t have an answer, when there is no ‘first of all’ coming forth out of a bunch of many others?

‘The first’ is often called the intuitive answer or the answer coming from the higher intelligence of the soul/consciousness, that which is higher than the rational capability of processing information, that which is beyond reasoning.

In the absence of a ‘first’ there comes silence, a context which might trigger the fear. Here is the moment when fear comes in. Mind is like an ongoing competitor. It cannot survive without a resolution, without an answer. And it can’t stand the unknown, either. Therefore, it must start searching.

But in that instant of complete cessation, processing stops. There is the one infinitesimal instant of pause, of complete silence, of absolute peace.

If we could imagine this temporary ‘death’ of our continuously running software, what is the picture that would fill our internal vision? Would it be a desert, an ocean, would it be a space above the earth, free of gravity? What would it be if this mind, attached to this body, would stop asking questions?… Hard to imagine such a death of the engine that keeps us wanting, searching, keeps us… alive. When there is no more curiosity, when there are no more questions… would that even be possible? Is there anything left to be? Does anything else exist anymore?

What do you love?

This was the question that stopped my mind, that let it die for a split of a second. There was no immediate answer. There was only silence. And awareness. A vast field of silence in which there was everything, everything was existing inside of the silence. Yet, no selection was needed. My mind couldn’t pick up any of the everything. Nothing could differentiate itself out of the everything.

‘Wow! Nothing? No thing? Nothing at all?!’…

Thus, the mind changed its state, went into movement, pixels and bits colliding at a quantum speed, searching for an answer, a different type of answer, one that could make the difference.

‘Well, maybe… feeling love?’

The mind rests. No further questions.


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The talking tree

There will be a time

Of no time

A too late time

For being sorry.

(Speak now or silence will erase all wounds!

No scars, no leaves, no flowers!)


Sometimes you need to bleed it all out,

To carve deep into the skin

To peel it off from the world, the old times world.

(Hurry up, there will be a time of no time!)


Sometimes peeling your own skin is painful

Too scary, seeing your hanging skin

While flowers still you have to grow.

(What a hard time for a tree!)


But what a delicate, clean, white new skin you have grown!

(See? That’s what change is!)


(September, the 2nd, 2017)


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