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- Embed this noticeI used to live in this head-space, this area where I hear myself think and chase my thoughts, although most of the time it was the ideas and thoughts that chased me, rarely one at a time but usually at least three or more, all branching out into different realms, underworlds, and heavenly skies. Now I seem to have broken through (or grown beyond) this space, and I feel a relief that I no longer need to have a thought or that a thought needs to accompany me. In fact, the necessity of being me has disappeared, and I could go to sleep, it feels, and wake up as an elk or a spilled puddle of water, and all that would happen would be a great laughter coming from that place that is me, myself, and all the beings singing in their own voices. I was a tree, then I became a forest, only to laugh about the funny riddle whether it's the branches and leaves of my crowns that are moving in the wind or whether, quite the oppposite, it's my branches and leaves that by moving make up the wind. And anyway, even this thought becomes a fading grin on the water's surface, as the wind never stops – only to go somewhere else. (And it reminds me that it was St. Augustine in the 4th centrury CE who invented the self as a person's inner space by reifying memoria and molding it to become the place where the soul could meet its God: inward, then upward, as the movement was meant to proceed.) In fact, I'm not even a forest but a flock of birds – all the voices of all the beings that chatter simultaneously while one takes a lead, for a while, then to be superseded by another. Watch flock of birds and their movements, every one a voice of some ancestor or lover or child-to-be... They fly around, and in so flying they create a centre around which they swirl. The centre, recognizable by being circled around, is empty, made up by the voices that are the birds flying as flock. It is this laughter at the centre of the movement that is me and you and whoever happens to become the centre of the dreams, and thoughts, and ideas tumbling across each other. Inner Outer? Yada yada. No need for such distinction left.
#talkingtomyselflettingyoulisten