What is best? To wonder about or to believe without question what comes down my mental river? Are my thoughts always the best thoughts to believe. What causes suffering? Could it be not questioning my thoughts?
Do I believe the world should be like I want it to be. And when it’s not, am I upset and unhappy and become so accustomed to this living circle that I accept it as normal and live in a state of constant dissatisfaction with reality and so don’t expect more?
Am I like a bird in a cage which has never known anything but the cage and so doesn’t miss being free or suffering? Why do I put so much faith in what I think? Am I caught in a very sophisticated trap which has at least a few perks?
If so, is out not the direction to go to escape the influence of this sophisticated trap? Must I go in to find the real? What is the real? Is it the freedom of only being, my hidden birthright, the part of me that brings forth without effort kindness and contentment? Where can I find the real? Is it everywhere yet beyond words and wrapped in silence? Is it centered in awareness? Am I a finely tuned nexus of awareness and creativity or am I describing my body, the human animal, the ant, the cow, the tree, etc.?
Can I love this wonderful and terrible humanity, to which I belong, just the way it is? What would it feel like to be comfortable in a world which has such extremes. Who would I be if I didn’t have to have? How do I go about ignoring the future and the past so that I come to rest amid the extremes.