Invisible Walls Of Consciousness

Rat and Women
What’s master of the body?
Not mind or spirit.
It’s somewhere in the mind’s depths,
Pervading the universe.

To herd a flock of sheep
Is beyond the power of dogs.
No, it’s the shepherd─God─
Swinging a rat’s tail.

There’s snow on the ground
And, on the hillock, a naked women.
Now I’m free to do anything
On sure ground.

Nothing gives offense:
My every deed,
Free as the mind itself,
Leaves not a trace.

The 20th century master poet Shinkicki Takahashi’s work can be read on a number of levels. His work is considered Zen thought so trying to grasp the meaning of each word is a challenging adventure. Each word is a symbol for vibrations that bounce off the invisible walls of consciousness. These vibrations find a home in each individual psyche. His poem Rat and Women is a good example of how difficult it is to put a fence around consciousness, and then brand it in the comfort of rational thought.

Takahashi had no intention of branding his expressions. His expressions quickly find a place of remembrance within the corridors of mental awareness. The master of the body as well as the mind is somewhere within the depth of the self, but that is unchartered territory for educated complacency. The laws of unification break down, and then rearrange themselves as the mind dangles from the nerve endings of separation.

Freedom on sure ground is not a place filled with matter; it is a hillock in motion. It is where the speed of the topography is universally stable in its own mythology. Nothing gives offense as Zen moves towards the center of a spec of mindfulness and blooms with tracelessness.

And so it is. We find ourselves swinging a rat’s tail, and wondering how to free the mind from the chasm of separation. Suddenly we discover that the rat’s tail is the mind, and it frees itself. Our every deed leaves no trace, but the imprint of consciousness on our conscious mind.