Settling the murky waters of a troubled mind
A journey to clarity
When I was around middle school and back in the early 90s, our home often experienced long stretches without running water. Those dry spells left us scrambling to manage with what little we had stored in massive barrels and buckets. Once that was depleted, my younger brother and I would be sent to the neighbor’s house, big buckets in hand, to fetch more water. What could have been a tedious chore turned into a sort of adventure for me.
All the kids from the neighborhood, each carrying their own container, would gather and set off together in search of a neighbor’s well that still held water. We’d chat and laugh, our voices echoing down the dusty streets, enjoying the sense of camaraderie and shared purpose. It was like an impromptu scavenger hunt, except the prize was essential for our families' survival.
I vividly remember the anticipation as we approached each well, hoping to find it still bustling with water. More often than not, however, the wells we relied on had been overused. With everyone rallied around the few neighbors’ house with surviving wells, the water levels would drop so low that by the time we filled our containers, the water we would be brown and murky. Yet, we had no choice but to do what we had to do.
And so, we would fill all the bowls, buckets, and water storage containers in the house. Despite the murkiness, we would let the containers sit untouched. After about an hour, with the soot and clay settled, either my father or mother would gently lift the buckets and scoop the clear water into another container, leaving the dirt in the original container. The clarity of the scooped water would be so pristine that no one would believe it had come from the ground.
I think of the mind in a similar way. When our attention latches onto various aspects of experience, the waters of the mind become murky. Our thoughts grow cloudy, and we begin to identify with them, forgetting they are like clouds that pass and we are not the thoughts. Our conversations become tense or maybe exciting, embedding us in their contents. Our life experiences become so involving that we lose touch with Reality, mistaking the content of our experience for Reality itself.
But when we sit quietly, withdrawing into our own Being, the murky waters begin to settle by themselves. This ensuing clarity reveals the illusions we are often lost in. This is not an active process but rather a gentle letting go. At first, we notice our thoughts as they bubble to the surface, like leaves floating on a pond. We then become aware of the sounds around us, the sensations and tensions within our bodies, and perhaps the psychic pull to get up and do something—anything but sit still.
As we persist, we direct our attention deeper, to the source of attention itself. This is where true stillness lies, an unfamiliar but profound sweet spot where we find ourselves. It is the eye of the hurricane, where nothing and everything happens simultaneously. In this space, the chaos of our thoughts and experiences begins to fade, revealing the underlying clarity and peace that were always there, just obscured by the churn of our daily lives.
In this state of quietude, the illusions we are often lost in start to dissolve. We see our thoughts for what they are: transient, insubstantial, not the ultimate reality. We recognize that our conversations, no matter how engaging, are just exchanges of ideas, not the essence of who we are. Our life experiences, however intense, are simply events passing in, as and through Consciousness.
In bringing attention to attention, somehow the mind settles, we return to a state of clarity and understanding. The murky waters clear, and we are left with a serene awareness, a connection to the deeper, clearer actual reality that lies beneath the surface of our everyday existence. This sitting, of bringing attention to attention itself, is a journey back to the True Self that never left. It is where we find peace and clarity amidst what was otherwise seen as chaos. It is in this that we find that thoughts, sensations, feelings appear to no one. The false/separate self is unable to claim ownership of experience. After all, it is the dirt at the bottom of this bucket. All along, the rousing of the waters was in its name.
In this clarity, only grace is revealed. In this clear seeing, there's just mysterious wonder. In this transparency, there's just what is. And what is is all there is- no need to negotiate with the mind.