Are You a Collection of Dead Leaves?

One day, you come to a stage where you realize that what you thought was "life" is nothing but a circulation of dead leaves. And whether this realization happens during your sleep or during the day, the important thing is that it happens.

You also realize that living is not possible without death. Thoughts can never define what life is. And thoughts certainly can't define death either, for if it knew the truth, death would not be seen as something tragic, sad, or awful, but a reincarnation in every now. Without this understanding, one knows not life, but dead leaves.

Many of us unknowingly live life in the past - a dead past. It's nothing but a collection of dead leaves that thought ponders over and plays with. They 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 alive 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦. But you scatter them around your living room, and beautify their existence. The leaves represent experiences in the past: lovers, knowledge, certificates, identification with my country or religion or philosophy, past traumas, memories, favorite snacks, my name, age, net worth.

Then along comes the brain which loves to reinforce circuits and therefore, holding onto patterns is something it does out of design. It holds on to all the wonderful experiences with your partner, or parents, or friends. It puts them in the living room and then goes looking for those dead leaves to re-experience them.

And so when another confronts you with an opposing opinion that challenges your leaves, your brain does such a marvelous job of protecting you- your beliefs, your views, your ways. In its threatened reaction, violence is born.

Or, when a close one crosses over/passes away, you become lonely, afraid, sad, even resentful. For what you thought was love, was also, just part of the collection of dead leaves. Which leaf do you miss most about that person? The one that washed the dishes? The one that did the shopping? The one that borne your children?

And in the time-space of life, we accumulate, accumulate and accumulate more and more leaves. And therefore, we live our life attached to the abundance of dead leaves. Surely, even the tree knows that if it were to hold on to the old leaves, the new ones could never be born.

But at some point, you start to realize. You realize that you are actually the tree and the tree 𝘪𝘴 alive. It doesn't run from the rain. It doesn't seem to mind the blanket of snow. It even waves it's arms in the wind. There is no resistance to "what is".

And back to you, you start to realize that unless you free your living room, you will always be hiding amongst the dead leaves. As such, there is absolutely no space for birth - for life - unless one dies to those leaves.

Every time you resist, every time you "push against", every conflict, every argument, every seeking of repeated pleasure, every goal, every image you make of another person is creating a dead leaf.

Like the tree, let the leaf fall.

Love and Light,

GC

#artofnothing #meditation #healingpowerofsilence