Tag: mental-health

mUshin

Stillness and focus — has become my life’s mantra; one thing at a time. There was a time when it was this way most of the time, at least, for most people. Now it seems that we are preoccupied with multiple things at the same time. Which makes it impossible to give complete attention to anything at one time. 

The inability to focus has become a primary problem in modern life. We seem to be everywhere at once and nowhere completely. Divided attention produces an incomplete experience. 

When attention is truly undivided we find heaven is in the details. It is the details of life that we miss when attention is not steady. In such moments the most crucial things – our relationships to self and others tend to suffer. Purposeful time aimed in this direction may be the simplest solution to the fractures in life we often experience. Not self obsession but gentle attention to the task at hand. A divided mind creates its own waste. It is not mere coincidence that so many live beneath their own desire for peace and wellbeing. What occupies the mind will inevitably shape a life. How eagerly we often seek to escape the present moment, to avoid our own company, without realizing what we are being distracted from. We may even feel guilty about withdrawing for moments of solitude, as though time alone were somehow a rejection of those we love. Solitude has a peculiar way of restoring gratitude for the things often overlooked. The nineteenth century writer Kahlil Gibran captures something of this in The Prophet, when he writes:

But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Time alone is not a rejection of others but a return to oneself — a preparation and refinement that makes one a better friend, lover, spouse, parent, and person. One who is comfortable in his solitude finds joy in the company. To enjoy one’s own presence is to discover a companion that trumps circumstances.

The term garbage in garbage out (GIGO), was popularized in the 1960’s. Though it was originally applied to computer programming, its principle is no less true when applied to the human mind. Every living system, in some measure, responds to what nourishes it. 

Yet Mushin begs something more subtle: What if peace is not merely a matter of replacing one thought with a better one? 

What if beneath all thought there exists a mind that does not require thinking?

Mushin is stillness; it is empty like a bellows. But within its emptiness there is capacity — so too is he that can rest in  solitude.  We often admire the intense focus of a musician who performs with such poise and rhythm that musician and instrument seem to merge so completely that neither appears to exist — only music.  

These are the moments of life we surrender when attention is divided — that seamless transition from one moment to another, one movement to another, without resistance, possession, or anticipation; a lifetime in a single moment 

There is space between every breath. 

Within all sound there is silence, for silence is not the absence of sound, it is its birthplace.

As darkness gives birth to light, and stillness animates every motion, so calm is found in the midst of chaos, and peace is not something imposed upon the universe but rather, something discovered within its natural order. 

The mind becomes still not by straining to eliminate every rising thought, but when it no longer attaches to every one that does. 

And perhaps this is where Mushin begins:

to move without letting go of stillness, 

to think without identifying as thought,

to act without division

to enter each moment so completely that no one is left observing.

by K. Osei

iKigai


The wisdom we gain as life unwinds are the mistakes reclaimed by grace and time. 

Nearly sixty-five years have passed, and I remain deeply intrigued—forever curious about the intrinsic nature of things and how they come to be. What began as an exuberant, youthful exploration has quietly matured into the internal inquisitions of an elder. Yet, it remains a life full of wonder. The more closely I examine my existence, the more encouraged I am by present possibilities, and the less apprehensive I feel to test boundaries that once appeared immovable 

Like most, social concepts have left their marks upon my thinking, but all life forms naturally seek equilibrium. Many of the beliefs I once held about reality no longer seem relevant; the desire to live more efficiently has demanded greater simplicity, to keep pace with life’s inescapable fragility. For me, there has never been a true separation between the physical and the spiritual. Religion, diet, exercise, or devotion to discipline have always functioned toward a single, unifying purpose—the refinement of the self. Though my ideologies and practices have constantly shifted, evolved, or perhaps just revolved, I still find enormous joy, even moments of ecstasy, in the ritual of it all.

Beyond the books, the courses, the teachings, and the endless surface chatter lies the soul—whatever that may be. Self-study remains my highest form of education and truth, the single pursuit most worthy of undivided attention. For as long as I can remember, my world has inevitably unfolded from within.

To hold a state of perfect balance in the midst of dissent, is bliss. I am learning—slowly becoming more intimately acquainted with a deep gratitude that once evaded my grasp. The more frequently I gain access to this space, and the longer I am able to reside within its presence, the more complete I become. In my own presence, there is no shortage; every perceived absence is returned to the present. To know that nothing I once sought exists apart from me, as an independent or self-actualized entity. That I cannot be anything more than what – already is. What I seek, I already am.

I am thankful for an abundance of things but, more than anything, the quiet understanding that I am already in possession of everything. 

The texture of silence in the morning; to find joy in a simple whiff of incense; the patterns of smoke afloat the air; the delicate dance of dust motes within a stream of sunlight beamed through the window of a quiet room; the feel of grainy waves of oak innately etched into the wooden floor beneath my feet; and knowing that no destiny is predetermined, but rather personally designed—not shaped by social construct, but willfully wielded within the workshop of my mind—for this, I am raptured: gratitude undefined.

by K. Osei