Separation

What an exhilarating feeling it is to experience, even if for just a moment, even if for just a fragment of a second, even if for just a blink of an eye, that what I think... is.. not who I am. Haaa.... The sound of separation. The sound of separation from the baggage and the scrutiny of the mind. That harsh language that the mind has a tendency of using, as if its whole job is to be critical. Hmmm... In fact, it IS the mind's job to analyze and dissect, but why apply that to myself? Am I really of such a need as to be constantly evaluated? It's as if I am putting myself through one of those mandatory work evaluations, where I am being measured against someone else, who is just simply too different from me, and comparing us is like comparing apples to oranges, sun to the moon, and eggs to a biscuit. That overactive and all-too-happy-to-give-advice brain impulses need to take a hike, somewhere deep into the forest, where the sound of the trees, and the breeze, and the birds create the symphony of quiet. And herein lies the sound of separation. The sound of separation from the baggage and the scrutiny of the mind. And what a relief it is to feel, even if the moment flies at the speed of light, that I am not who I think I am. That I may be something very different, that I may be something beyond what I've told myself, beyond what I've known, and way beyond my wildest dreams.