One thing I’ve come to see more and more is that my mind doesn’t really know what is going on. It thinks it does, though, and most of the time I am inclined to listen. Its suggestions seem good. But pervading them is a constant sense of anxiety, as though the mind itself is uncertain and is trying to convince itself over and over that it knows what is best.
So I’ve tried trusting in the body. Right now, as I write this, the body writes. It writes because in some sense, it already knows what it wants to say. There is no need to question or determine whether or not what is said is true. The body knows it is true. It’s true for right now.
If we leave the mind to it’s own devices and let it simply be, what happens to it? For a while, it tries to lure us back with thoughts like, Oh, of course, I understand now, or But isn’t it possible that… or Enough. Now it is time to do the work of meditation.
All of it is not true. The body and heart already know what is needed so in some sense there is only the doing. At this point even the doer is nowhere around because the doer is just that sense of not being at home.
How do we listen to silence? Wrong question. It is the invitation to relax.