Brain Wave


A few chemicals
And electrical changes
Teeny-weeny sparks
Pray tell me do at which point
You began calling it “Mine”?

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on April 14, 2014, in Poetry, Tanka, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. Not sure what you’re saying in this one.


    • Carefully observing the arising in your consciousness of a thought. Where does it arise from? How does it happen? Look for the moment when you decide to think “I had this thought”, I” thought …” or “I think…”. That moment of ownership, the experience of that, is what I am trying to point at here. It is perhaps the greatest of human mysteries, is it not, on which all else is founded?


  2. Yes, at what point? The mystic knows. A ray from the sun becomes braided into our consciousness and we claim it as ours… but perhaps we shouldn’t….


    • Or perhaps we are both individuated and unindividuated until we decide; a kind of Schrödinger’s cat thing. 🙂

      Do read this article.

      Here’s a brief extract.

      “None of the raw materials that form your physical body age, moreover, they are constantly changing. Therefore I ask this of you. Is it really you that is changing? And what is the force that organizes these atoms and molecules back where they are supposed to be, and makes sure that they perfectly and harmoniously continue to do their jobs even while your cells and atoms are migrating by the billions?”


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