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Anthem
1608 Posts |
 Posted - Nov 29 2009 : 10:46:41 PM
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The mind moves to be aware of the wall,
it isn't me.
The desk that is leaned on,
it isn't me either.
The mind then travels to be aware of the hands typing,
it isn't me.
This body, yet another object the mind can travel and be aware of,
it isn't me.
The eyes I am looking through, I don't know them,
they aren't me.
The dreams that form scenes for me to see,
they aren't me.
The emotions the mind travels to the chest to know,
they aren't me.
Thoughts arise and when touched by the mind, tell a story of reality,
but aren't me.
All thoughts are just objects that can be touched by awareness and experienced,
but aren't me
"I" is just another thought, another object,
but not truly that deep down sense of "me"
Reduced to nothing, no words, silent awareness experiencing objects that can each be known in unique ways.
Interspersed within every molecule of existence is the familiar inner sense of "me" known.
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Edited by - Anthem on Nov 29 2009 10:50:11 PM |
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The inquiry of objects
