1922 hours. Blackout. Pen desire
We’ve been adamantly trying to reach the zenith of a seemingly incessant mathematical problem and so we are busy scratching our pony tailed heads. Not all of us however, because there is one lass that is literally pulling hairs off her head, which will later awe us to an amusing patch sight during the evening parade. Gradually, we all get to the eureka moment, shut our book covers in an accomplishment fashion and go to our unprecedented amusement before heading to sleep. Hell! We really needed that sleep!
Faithful to its reputation, the math class isn’t cancelled, and neither is it delayed. The teacher wants to see the assignment and I’m equally excited as I am wierded out to take out my book as he calls me with the most distorted form that my name can take.
I open my book and this is how it goes…
“Can I see your assignment?”
“Sure, It’s over here”
“Over here. Wait, WHERE THE HELL IS MY ASSIGNMENT!!!!!!!”
I mean, I can clearly see the inscription but the ink is playing such a perfect game of hide and seek. The page couldn’t possibly have been torn though, because there’s everything else on the page well, APART FROM THE ONE THING.
Apparently and more so painfully, FOUNTAIN PEN ERASER is a term and mark this, IT EXISTS!
Someone decidedly erased my assignment for whatever reason and succeeded in thoroughly torturing my ignorant mind.
I’ve never been so confused and frustrated my entire life.
Surprisingly however and quite betrayingly, my brain took the opportunity to master the art and that is most of what it does nowadays. It likes to play and the game is most definitely not funny. It likes to make me feel stupid. Well, stupid and insecure and confused and boring. It escapes leaving only a mark to show that something once existed. That the chain of thought was once there. That the idea was once hovering around and even cared to consider my brain a home. A cup of tea.
It disappears and leaves me in my own misery having to get a way out of something we got in together, ON MY OWN.
As sad as this might seem, it gave me a lead to the question of who.
“Who are you?”
Because you are most definitely not your brain as it has been misinterpreted before, and neither are you your thoughts.Not exclusively anyway, otherwise big terms such as IMPOSTER SYNDROME and MIND CONTROL OF THE MONKS wouldn’t exist. The ability of one to separate themselves from their thoughts is their ticket to utmost freedom and refusing to acknowledge this binds one a prisoner inside themselves.
Perhaps the most valuable exercise I have come across is Transcedental Meditation, or in other words The Gap. It’s an exercise in becoming a quiet, disinterested observer of the minds activities. No, it doesn’t require focusing and neither emptying the mind. It allows the thoughts to come and go, like a passing cloud, smoothly floating away. You are very much in your reality, but you are letting the thoughts come and go, without dwelling on them and neither allowing them to torture you but slowly gaining power to manipulate them.
It is the suspension of logic and its need for “correctness” and “reality”. And replacing it with the simple need to feel great in your internal experience. You get to re-set logic with the acknowledgment that “nothing needs to happen right now”; the opposite message of logic. It appears the Gap is a way to neutralize the logical way of seeing the moment just long enough to ensure that you have not become a slave to its process, and that whatever you want to feel is given the highest priority in your experience.
When you are able to detach yourself from the content of your thoughts, you realize there is little problem, or even better, THERE IS NO PROBLEM. This method allows your mind to easily settle inward until you experience the most silent and peaceful level of your own awareness proving to be an incredible strategy in managing daily anxieties.
There. Stress and anxiety are harmful to health, happiness, creativity and productivity.
At some point, “Nothing needs to happen right now”.
Needlessness. Pure serenity. Letting go.