Enlightened.

The world is quieter than I may have thought it was. I walked around a park by myself and when I shut off my thoughts and just tried to experience the world and hear it and see it without thinking, I realized how loud my thoughts are compared to how quiet my foot steps are. I could barely hear my sound upon the grass.

My walking experience was a mix between quietness and inevitable thoughts. And the thoughts hit hard upon my heart and tears welled up in my eyes. I get like this when I become enlightened.

What is life about? Why do we have all these memories? Why do we go through all of these experiences?

And on my walk, with the quiet air, soft grass, abundance of squirrels and geese and sweet smelling flowers, I came to a revelation.

Life is a collection of experiences. Don't worry about anything. Not about perfecting yourself or loving or being loved or figuring out how to live out your purpose. Because you will do these things, inevitably. 

A person who tries very hard to be important, with sweat, blood, and tears, is no more important than someone who enjoys life without even the thought of their importance. You will inevitably be what you will be.

So. breathe. And experience it (life). Don't try to figure everything out. Don't try to resolve experiences. Just. experience. it.

“A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving in a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore; it’s to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out. It is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery.” - John Keats character in Bright Star

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;	5
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer. That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse. - Walt Whitman No matter how hard you try, you will contribute a verse. This enlightened my soul.