Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.”
After so much thinking and being hurt I haven’t found a way to open people to see the fragility of our lives. The futility of all mental borders. Futility of shame and pride. All the petty mental sets that destroy happiness. I can’t even ‘help’ my mother come to this field where understanding lies (so we both can live happier?). Let alone all the other people who are stuck in their “I am ……”s and battling constantly to protect their self-made self-concepts. I can’t even point towards another perspective – they don’t look, you see. Because the ‘self’ must be protected at all costs. Seeing the larger perspective is always too threatening to the self – it might be destroyed you know? Or perhaps you might realize that it was never there before you and society built it. It’s futile, any effort to ‘make’ others see.
So here my ‘soul’ lies on this grass, you can come if you want to.
No more effort,
all your bitching only hurts you.
When you are tired come lie down here,
it was always open for you.