Sunday TM

During the week, my mind gloms up with thoughts that cling to each other, like plaque clusters. They are stored here and there in seemingly chaotic fashion, as daily and weekly obligations are made and fulfilled. These mental plaque clusters, though remaining unaware consciously, create imbalance and a weightiness in the unconscious.

During TM, and the flow of the mantra, those clusters slough off of each other and, bit by bit, simply drift down into a shallow layer at the bottom of my breath. There is so much space, because the clusters have been dissolved. There is so much time, because there is no war warding off awareness.

There are only the chirping birds.