i think there’s something he wants to say but he doesn’t say it and i don’t ask

a real master rarely refers to themselves as a master.
those most fit to lead almost never seek conventional leadership.
we get very worried about many things,
most all of our worries break down to a few core parts,
and most of our core parts are comprised of,
“i hope this does not leave me”.
a long line of humans,
thousands of years long,
millions of humans deep,
does a similar behavior.
year after year,
this chain of humans chants,
lights incense,
wears a specific hat.
our behaviors can serve as chains,
yes,
in the sense of restriction.
and our behaviors can serve as chains,
yes,
in the sense of unity,
in the way we lock tight the things we hope not to lose.
alone in a hut somewhere,
a master goes quietly about their life of mastery.
they chop wood for their fire.
they tend to the small garden for their food.
they spend a lot of time watching the wind,
listening to the birds.
from this hut they are able to lead.
silently,
without any concrete followers,
they are able to lead.
for thousands and thousands of years.
the trick of it is,
there is no trick.
everything you hope to hold on to,
it will absolutely go away.
you yourself,
in the only form you know yourself in,
it will go away.
and the trick of it is,
none of this ever goes away.
from one form,
another.
from no form,
form.
from nothing,
something.
and then nothing.
always nothing.
the error of modernity is to think of nothing as anything other than what it is,
which is joy.
which is joy.
which is joy.

a mountain peak is black against a sky of midnight blue. a few stars shine tiny and bright from the past.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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