Letter to a friend:
If you are really interested in my reasons for my actions, please ask me. Yelling, sulking, shouting or crying will take nowhere. But are you clear about your reasons for interest into my affairs? If not, any answer I may give, is futile. It would be like an egg with tremendous possibilities. It can be boiled, scrambled or omeletted or just mixed in a drink. Communication is an exercise in futility until we talk in silence. But what kind of silence?
Mind is an industry of ideas. An industry of action. Until all the churning of this industry ceases, communication is a feeble trumpet blowing in the face of numerous drums of memory. Are those drums of memory interested in my trumpet of reasoning? Very unlikely. It does not matter if we sit down in serene surroundings or complete calm of a Garden, the mind is never silent.
Can you see this dichotomy? It is always there. With every action we take. Every response we choose. Unless we clear this noise in the background of life, communication is as peripheral as between the captains of two ships shouting at each other while sailing through a storm in the sea. We can meet and talk, at the shore of your choice or mine, but we must know about it.
All the best to you my friend. Please take time to see. I am here, as always.