I know everything, but I don't know my mind
“Ah Harry, we have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.” (Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse)
Harry, at a loss, suffered from chronic melancholia. He cried out his longing for home.
Hermann Hesse let the readers decide for themselves whether Harry did reach home in the end.
What/ where is home?
Is there home for everyone of us?
If there is none, why are we suffering from homesickness?
How about you?
Are you coming home?
I looked Death in the eye,
there’s nothing monstrous or ugly to behold.
Death is as natural as Life.
While mind in wakeful state is like a wild horse, wildly chasing after one thought after another;
the mind in sleep is like a clan of hyenas, breaking loose, ready to tear everything apart that come its way.
After a couple of years practicing Vipassana, I start to understand what the Blessed One really wants us to do; training mindfulness and equanimity. It feels like watching a movie of your own life. All the time being aware and merely noting.
The teacher instructs you to start observing your breath and bodily sensations. Later on you will notice other things, too.
This is sense impression
This is perception
This is feeling
This is emotion
This is thought
This is form
This is non-form
Instead of being swept over by the strong current of the river (of life), you climb onto the bank and watch the river itself. Observant and equanimous, you start to cut the ties of suffering.
A stupid person talks about other people
A smarter person talks about events
An even smarter person talks about ideas
But a wise person knows when to keep silent
Today some homeless pondered aloud during our short walk to get some sandwich downtown.
Why is there no cure for mental disease? Like for flu, you know… after a couple of days you get better, but not schizophrenia…
I do not know the answer dear Sir… ask your shrink.
P.S.: by the way, there is no medicine for flu, either.
