I am constantly amazed by how many
concepts I can hold inside my mind
at one time. They are all endlessly connected,
overlapping eachother, transparent but capturing,
like the shades of a kaleidoscope, passing
along meaning like a newspaper boy with a
thousand arms — they are really
all at once.
Some Sri Lankan masters of metaphysics
once stated there were 9 movements
of thought in one second — some
Indians thought there were more. The
Chinese said that all these moments
of mind reflected eachother, images
of images coming from all sides of
the fathomless net of awareness. The Japanese said that
moments of thought were Being, and
that Being was moments of thought,
which leaves an endless no-trace.
The Tibetans said that the flow
of concepts was luminosity, a super-
charged search-light of primordial perception, jam-
packed with empty cognizance.
The Thais said it was just impermanence.
Standing inside one of these concepts
is like sitting on a throne inside a raindrop:
regally self-contained, holding together,
you can see all around you, through the
film of that spherical world, but
it’s all blurry. It’s all beautiful,
but it’s all blurry.
(and) that’s just
one. I sit on thrones of thought-metal
in a billion drops of thought-water.
Padmasambhava knew how to make
pretty things out of sky-metal.
He gave them to his favorite girl
& she hid them in some mountains, some rocks,
I feel like I’m awakened
but I have no wakefulness. The
Swiss Warrior said to me: “It’s like I’m
enlightened, but I have no light. My
suffering is that I’m always right
but no one listens to me. You need
to learn to be alone, alone with your
self, which doesn’t exist: it’s just
what you think you are, your ego, but
it’s just an illusion.”
My brother once
said to me: “You didn’t accomplish much when you
were young; but at least you realized
that you didn’t exist.”
There is this process
of emptying and filling
that we all go through
on numerous levels.
I sit atop a throne
and see the thought-drops falling.
Darjeeling, West Bengal, India