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  • Jesse Irizarry

The Wind In The Trees

I get wound into frantic spells of higher thought here and there. It’s usually on mornings when I slept well the night before where I get keyed up with caffeine and the like and set my mind to work out some all-important direction forward.

I’ll go through a series of images and half-completed inner monologues in my head. It usually leads to some time loss spent mindlessly tapping and scrolling on my phone with google searches, YouTube tutorials, and unnecessarily in-depth reading mulled through as quickly as my fingers will allow but not as fast as my mind is satisfied with.

It all seems so important right in that moment. Some of the fragments start an idea that leads eventually to a completed thought for a creative business action or a way to build better psychological patterns. Most are probably useless. But I guess it’s good to wring out the atoms running into each other between my ears from time to time.

Meditation and grounding were particularly begging some attention on one of these mornings. It was probably a beautiful, sunny morning. I can’t remember if it was, I’m assuming. That’s usually the condition that cues that locus of attention toward a more focused mindful practice for me. I was searching for different models of mediation and found one on YouTube from Mooji. Here it is if you’re interested in looking at it:

I liked it, I used it again the next day. I sat in a park this morning. It has a pond. It’s quiet. It was another beautiful morning. Here’s a picture of the place:

I sat on a bench and did my morning breathing. I meditated. I looked up at the trees and finally stopped thinking. The last week and a half have kept me trapped in my mind. There were a lot of problems to solve, way too many. It found some peace in putting my mind aside and growing aware that I had been trapped within it completely, again.

In the guided meditation, Mooji says “You control mind, it doesn’t control you. Remember this.” Just those words made the meditation important to me.

I saw the wind in the trees this morning. When I turn away from mind, sometimes I see the sunlight through the leaves. Most of my adult I’ve been distracted and trapped in the box where my mind never stops sputtering out sounds. Telling me what this and that is, what I think of this and that. What he or she thinks of me and what I did or didn’t do to make it so. What the opinions of the world are.

I noticed more wind in trees, sunlight in leaves when I was a kid. It was easier to wake from the coma of inner monologue and use mind as a problem-solving tool only when I needed to. Like a calculator to solve an equation or a dictionary to look up a word. It’s harder now, so much harder.

When it does happen, I can feel that which is unchanging in me which is also in the wind. I appreciate it so much more than when I was a kid because I know what it is. But I’d rather have the same relationship with it as I did when I was a kid. It didn’t need to be appreciated, it’s what was. And it is what is.

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