Being silent, having no thoughts but one, no thoughts but heaven; it's impossible to this thinking person, who's always thinking. Thus, I try, only, to do deep meditation with no thought but one.

Oh, I try. I rub my cheeks on the window pane of Nirvana, but the slight nip in the air, the minuscule hair on the back of my hand on top of the skin keeps me from wandering too far in the land of nether.

I want to have no thought, because my ricocheting light beams of thought within the square chamber of my mind don't ever seem to stop. Therefore, I try to slow them down by meditating on one phrase, usually "Heavenly Parent." In Korean it melts easy because it is not native, "Hanul Bumonim." Or "Jesus" or "Holy Mother Han."  I enter a room with only her and proceed to just sit. No talking; not that it's not allowed, but that I want to be bare. I want to be open, to receive.

In fact, all I want to do is be receptive. Be quiet. Be silent. Be with God.

Is not God silent in the depth of the ocean, a tranquil space where noise is squeezed out from the universe?

Silence is rare these days anywhere on this Earth. On occasions in the wide expanse of Alaska, I've been on lake trails or on mountain verandas where silence awoke, where it -- the silence -- turned up its volume. Where I can't hear anything. I mean, I hear nothing. Nothing has a sound. Have you ever heard completely nothing. It is remarkably present. Self-aware. I become the only one piercing such silence. I make it noisy. By my thinking alone.

This I am trying to stop, by meditating. Before dawn, before the world wakes up. Before my mind starts chattering its concerns and chumming its thoughts into this ocean, teaming with fish life.


August 2, 2026   10:19 AM