The most natural thing
Silence is nature. What isn’t silently rejoicing the mere fact of existence? The song of joy isn’t sung from a particular point of view. It is rather a quiet acknowledgement of what already is. It is like a serene lake. The lake doesn’t need any accomplishments. It is content in merely being. And in this total absence of ambition, beauty is astounding, yet profoundly peaceful. Such peace seems undesirable to the mind, since the mind might be too conditioned to be free. What’s strange, however, is that there is no guarantee to the mind that such peace is desirable. It is rather outside of what it can imagine. But when the mind has had a taste of this peace, of its depth and ineffable beauty, then it might see how little and insignificant its struggle has been.
Life is without a single problem. A problem is mere projection of the mind. It is like the movie screen, where all things are displayed. There are happy things, sad things, violent things, peaceful things. But if the mind look for contentment within the screen, it shall never feel content. What’s within the screen are changeful, never still. What is still is silent, unmoving, yet totally flexible, since that silence is what perceives change. What allows all change is unchanging.
When there is no problem, there is no worry, no ambition, no violence in the sense of changing what is. Then, love shall flower like a spring that never exhaust itself, for a mind that changes nothing is a mind capable of love in the most supreme sense: a deep and abiding companionship, a caress without attachment and sorrow, the seeing of life, and everything within this field, as what it is, actually, simply, happily. Such love dissolves conflicts. Such love transforms the human being. Such love brings peace like water quenches thirst. It is the most natural thing.
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