A poem about consciousness and the contents of consciousness.
I used to think my thoughts were true. You have to believe your thoughts are true Without your thoughts, who are you?
I used to think my thoughts were me. If they aren’t you… Then who are thee? I am the thinker let me be!
I control that string of thoughts. I am the thinker, am I not? Just sit and think a string of thought.
Are you the thinker or the naught? I used to think that I decided. Which thoughts got through and which got sided.
But that was just another thought That bubbled up above the naught.
Inspired by Byron Katie’s Loving What Is and Sam Harris’s Waking Up.
From Zen and the Art of [nothing] by John Zdanowski & Jeff Abrams, Chapter 5.