MAY YOUR RIPPLES SLOWLY FADE

by gustaf broms

In a forest I found myself lost

I found a forest full of loss

In myself I found a forest

a forest

a lost self

a forest as self

The title MAY YOUR RIPPLES SLOWLY FADE refers to that state of no-mind, before consciousness defines, describes, and names what is. These vague precious moments, beyond time and space, when separation between past and present, here and there evaporate.

What a treasure, these brief moments, just before we are thrown back into linear thinking, with all its layers of memory and identity. Those brittle layers, as solid as a fleeting thought?And then again, all possibilities unfold in an eternal moment,always present, yet so hard to grasp,when recognised….already gone.here lies hope?

To look at this living process and understand one aspect of existence as a biological soup, of forms making up forms of forms, a constant process of becomings, an eternal reshuffle of this star dust. Always building more complex structures, that fall apart, again and again. This material-physical aspect, is constantly mirrored on an immaterial plane of existence, as consciousness reads the experience of matter. How are they linked? Who feeds who? Is one aspect more “real” than the other?