You are sitting at the kitchen table enjoying that first cup of coffee. It is a quiet morning, and the mind, too, is quiet… more than quiet, though; more like empty. Ha. What in the world does empty mean? You can’t explain it; no one can, really, but nevertheless, when the mind is clear and empty, and you know yourself as awareness, there is no question that you have returned home. Of all the wonderful (and not so wonderful) things life has to offer, an empty mind is, underneath it all, our deepest longing.
While you are writing this, you spot a little black ant crawling around on the tabletop. A little explorer, zig-zagging here and there, gathering information with its tiny antennae. All of life is in this little creature, and, inwardly, an ineffable joy arises as you observe it go about its business. There is a recognition, not by the knowing mind, but by something beyond words, that you are not separate from the ant nor it from you. You are the ant, and the ant is you.
Your little friend crawls over the edge of the table and out of sight, and you are left, sipping your coffee and listening to the crows.
