After the Mantra
Sometimes the mind is not quiet.
Thought follows thought; one thread leads to another; something unfinished keeps returning.
In that movement, it is difficult to see anything clearly.
A mantra can enter here.
Not as a belief. Not as an idea.
Just a simple repetition.
Sound, returning to itself.
At first, it seems like something being done.
A deliberate movement. A way of gathering attention.
The mind, which was scattered, begins to move in one direction.
Gradually, other thoughts lose their force.
They still appear, but they do not carry attention away so easily.
The repetition continues.
Steady. Uncomplicated.
⸻
After some time, something changes.
The mantra is still there, but the effort around it begins to fade.
It continues almost on its own.
Less like doing, more like happening.
⸻
And then, sometimes,
even this quiet repetition falls away.
Not stopped. Not completed.
Just no longer needed.
⸻
What remains is not produced by the mantra.
It was already there.
But the movement that covered it has settled.
There is a kind of openness.
Not created by sound, and not dependent on silence.
In that moment, it becomes clear:
the mantra did not bring anything new.
It did not create clarity.
It only allowed the mind to become simple enough
for what is already here
to be noticed.
The sound appears, and disappears.
The silence remains.
⸻
And even that silence
is known
without effort.