We walk winding paths,
Obscured by trees.
It is an arbitrary obscuration.
Only one path exists.
The path goes round and round.
Until we sit in the center, unmoving.
We seek, we search, we long to fill whatever that empty feeling is inside of us. And all we seem to be able to do is turn on the TV, listen to loud music, or drown in our variety of distractions. We all seek refuge somewhere and through something.
And what are you hiding from? What are you looking for? How far have you traveled? On what does all your happiness rest? Soon it will be gone.
We do nothing but build glass houses. It is only a matter of time before what we have built shatters, before we find ourselves in another chaotic mess. And of course, you will die one day. All is impermanent.
There you are, I am, laying naked, cold, lonely, and weeping. This is all so familiar. Round and round and round we go… where do we stop? Some of us never do.
Some do stop the cycle. Some only pause between intervals, take a few breathes and then continue. In those still moments, they might see that when everything else is stripped away, there is only honesty. We can choose to turn to it, to ourselves, or we can shut our eyes and walk away, continuing to ride yet another round on the rollercoaster.
If we don’t want our world obscured, we must turn into ourselves with terrifying honesty. The truth is dangerous and frightening but it is necessary for peace. We have built so many ideas and theories, many of them do nothing but mask our honesty. It is only when we turn inward that we truly turn outward and see the world through fresh eyes. In Zen this is called beginners mind, because we must always start at the beginning, always with the eyes of a child. Then there is joy in knowing all things pass with time.