Today’s Stroll of Poets prompt asked for an “altered state” poem. Not surprisingly, my busier-than-usual mind went to a place of questioning and worry.
You rely too heavily on the ordinary mind.
As though I possess a back-up, extraordinary mind,
tucked in my purse, or hidden somewhere inside me.
Leftover brain of a vanishing twin.
But I curb that bit of sarcasm.
I’m paying to listen, receive, as well as talk.
In the ordinary mind, she continues, we can become stuck,
ignoring the usefulness of
altered states, like mindfulness.
A non-verbal mode. Just here.
Leaving the present
at that very moment,
against all advice, I wonder
why we’ve become hard-wired to think
in ways that so often erode our happiness?
Why just being is something we need to be taught,
prodded into practicing?
Why does “consciousness” sound like
Why does my ordinary mind
have so many damn questions?