Imagine silence.

Both concrete and abstract, allowing the mind to become empty below words and thoughts.

Now letters  become words, to become sentences, to become paragraphs, to become chapters, to become books, conversations, remembrances and hopes. As sentient beings, even with the deepest of meditations, is this even possible?

The words become bottled up sometimes.  Fear of criticism stifles release, for both the spoken and unspoken. Why? Because no one ever fully truly listens, even fewer truly reads to understand. (Hint, it takes three readings to begin to understand.)  Instead the urge to respond, to react, to speak over is too strong.

Even the unspoken word. Only myself can hear these words as I type. Even with each letter, the thoughts surge to what is to be said next, hoping that I can remember what is next as I slowly type & correct the way through.  I can’t hear your thoughts , the ones surging through your mind as you read each word & thing in between the lines.

Me, I’m still working my way towards mindfulness through meditation. I know that when I become more mindful, my mind is less full of unnecessary nuisance clutter.