No Details

I sit with a conscious effort to draw my senses away from what's going on outside.  I start to notice other places in my body. I notice my breath, my legs, my back . . . occasionally, I feel as if I am one solid unit. My mind and body are not separate. The world goes on around me. Phones ring, cats want to be fed, the neighbor's music is too loud. I remain aware of the outside world but take on a detachment from it by directing my attention inward.

I like to think stillness like this is similar to sitting by a stream in the woods. If I sit quietly and for a long enough time, animals come out to where I can watch them. Sitting with my focus turned inward, if I sit quietly and for a long enough time, my thoughts come out.

I watch my thoughts come and go, without attachment, without fear, without love. They are my thoughts, yes. But they are not me. They are imprints of experiences left in my mind or anticipation of events to come. Full of details. My Self exists in the present where there are no details.