An Overcrowded Consciousness

You lay down, out of doors, your back on a grassy bed. You are surrounded by tall trees. You have your eyes open, aimed skyward. No one is around. You wait for it.

You listen. Before long, you become aware of a warm, static humming originating from the recess of your mind. Concentrating on the hum, you realize a mash-up of songs you have memorized, rendered in your mind’s perception of what your voice sounds like when you would sing along to them. Interspersed are the words from the last text message you received, rendered in your mind’s perception of the voice of its sender. Patched between the songs and the voices you hear your own thoughts, the ones you have been neglecting.

The mind is never fully quiet, even in the absence of distraction. It has sponged outer stimuli and in their absence it requires a wringing out in order to drip the nonessential noise clear. When you find yourself truly alone, it naturally finds the means to disengage from external interference. When you first lay down, you cannot look up at the stars with an empty and clear mind. Find balance in your breathing, listen to the drain, feel release in the unclogging. Anything can become clean again, especially the overcrowding of consciousness.

Look again, beyond the swaying leaves on the trees’ upper branches, and your sight will find the burning stars. Their light reaches down to a consciousness thirsty to absorb its surroundings. Your eyes defogged, your soul renewed.

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