Mindful of Me

Sometimes my mind may be so far from me that I feel it not a part of me at all.

And at other times, it is the essence of my being.

Where is my mind; where am I, and am I with my mind? AND how is it possible that I am not with my mind at all?

Is it me?
Does it control me? Yes.
Can I control it? Yes.
But do I really?

Is it possible for my mind and self to be at the same place?

My mind can take me to the past. My mind can take me to a concocted future. My mind can plant memories of events that never happened. My mind can distract distressing events with preoccupations. My mind can take me to countries that never existed, meet fictional characters and conquer lands with charms and strength I do not have. My mind can get stuck on a cyclical repetition, never finding the answer.

My mind can be mindful of whatever it pleases, and yet those thoughts which are most troubling to me, those which are not pleasing but rather quite distressing, exacerbate my mind's peace. I can control. I cannot control. I cannot control the woes which consume me.

"Ideas have the power to change/move." whatever that quote of generalization is.

I would rather not think. I would rather not be consumed in a world of ideas. I would like to be totally and completely present, completely mindful of the tangibility of a human. A human who has mindful ideas, yes of course, but still the most real and attainable of any "idea."

I wish not to have been in idea. I wish to have been a living and breathing human. Important.

But I suppose that is where it all boils down to, what holds the most value. And one human cannot possibly compete with the ideas and beautiful mind of another human, now, can it!

I suppose "us humans" must apologize for our lack of absolute tangibility in comparison to the "tangible" ideas of others.

This is what you have read as my open book of pages no longer bound, fluttering about in the wind. Mist. Dust in the wind. Vapor. Time. As it is, just an idea.