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It is very late and I am too tired to write. It is a surprisingly yummy feeling to be this tired, to know there are thoughts in there somewhere – some might even be coherent – but the layer of fuzz wrapped around my brain makes the thoughts just slightly out of my reach. There are many paths to illumination and I will dub this route “stupid Zen.” Of course, the problem with stupid Zen is it’s not trustworthy: life is, according to the Balinese, a shadow puppet play. We only see the shadows, the illusion, so riding the horse of exhaustion into the illusion of illumination seems counterproductive.
It is not so much an altered state as much as…a state. In the absence of coherent thought there is no need for alteration. With reason tucked in for the night, thought is more apt to go off the trail and lose itself in the forest. The cool night air, the sound of the waves against the seawall are more available; I am more able to give myself over to the little things which, I know, are really the important things: when I am this tired I can be no where else but here.
I heard this quote today, I can’t remember where, but it just bubbled to the top and I’ve just decided that for sheer tenacity this will be the first verse in the book of stupid Zen:
“I prefer to be wrong, it is so much more interesting than thinking I am right.”
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