Although the street is quite busy, with cars and people getting off work, the silence is still there, pronounced, unmoved, permeating the entire atmosphere. The sky is very clear after a day of strong wind, and the sun is setting, tingeing the sky with slight pink. The winter is almost over, another season is cycling around, and the wheel of life seems to roll in its familiar pattern.
When there is effort and a direction, creativity is stifled. When the mind is occupied by an objective, there isn’t room for discussion, for deviation, for exploration. The unknown frightens a mind accustomed to knowledge, therefore deviation is to be avoided. However, it is such a bliss to be lost! Be lost, and find nothing to accomplish! Only in the ocean that is this confounding appearance can there be such joy to be. No worries. No strings. Nothing to expect. Nothing to understand. And, strangely, in this silence, thought can finally relax and become quite creative. Inspirations appear so naturally that any effort to accomplish seems so foolish and misguided.
That silence operates on its own. It is the ground for creation. It simply moves. It doesn’t listen to one’s will, free or not. It doesn’t bow to any authority or ideology. That is real dignity: to not follow a thing, inwardly or outwardly. Life isn’t for anyone, let alone some ideas. Life is sacred, and nothing else needs to be said.