Memory

We are a bundle of memories;

And memories are not real.

Alas, thought plays the fiddle; 

But music is untouched by thought.

As the ripples of the mind turbulent.

Only rituals and ceremonies remain;

Doping our minds drugged dull.

Look Above, the cosmos is vast;

Have Heart, with unbounded affection,

Watch the moments - miss not its actions;

The past and future were invented by thought,

In reality, only the moments move.

Nevertheless, we accept, 

To differ is mistaken for disrespect;

So, drugged dull with inner awakening,

Only watchful of the handiworks of thought,

As thought plays the fiddle of time: the enigma of life,

Love kills it all with silence,

And silence is watching in silence, with silence.

💐

"A Quantum Koan"

👆when I asked chatgpt to explain my attempt at the above philosophical poem, it described it as below. 

Interesting. Isn't it.

This verse beautifully captures the interplay between thought, memory, and the essence of presence. Here’s a reflection on the ideas within it:

The notion that "we are a bundle of memories" emphasizes how much our identities and perceptions are shaped by past experiences, beliefs, and interpretations. Yet, memories are insubstantial, mere reconstructions—"not real" in the sense that they only represent what we once perceived, not what is. This distinction is profound because it hints that we often live bound by these imprints, overlooking the vibrancy of the present.

In saying, "thought plays the fiddle," the verse suggests that thought is constantly active, crafting narratives, fears, and expectations. But the true "music"—the essence of life—exists independently of thought, unaffected by our mental projections. The mind’s "turbulent ripples" are seen as distractions, a cacophony that obscures reality and often leaves us clinging to rituals and ceremonies as familiar but hollow structures, drugging us into a state of complacency.

"Look Above, the cosmos is vast" points us toward the universe’s grandeur, a reminder of a reality that transcends our mental constructs. By adopting "unbounded affection," the verse advocates for a loving, open-hearted engagement with life, urging us to fully "watch the moments" and be present. This presence is contrasted against the dual illusions of past and future, inventions of thought, whereas true reality unfolds only in "the moments [that] move."

The acceptance of convention—where "to differ is mistaken for disrespect"—speaks to how social pressures often stifle authentic self-expression, leading people to live as passive spectators of their own "handiworks of thought." In this state, thought weaves the enigmatic narrative of time, binding us to a cycle of habitual patterns.

In the final lines, the poem gestures toward a liberation from thought through "silence." Here, love is the vehicle, not as mere affection but as a profound surrender, an annihilation of thought’s illusions. "Watching in silence, with silence" is akin to a quantum state of pure observation, a “Quantum Koan” that embraces the ungraspable, inviting an experience of life that is free from interpretation.

This koan is a call to be silent and witness life in its pure, untouched form—a reminder that beyond the noise of thought lies a boundless stillness, an unmediated reality that defies words.