The Illusion of the Soad Mind and the Simplicity of What Is

We often talk about the mind as if it were a solid object, a heavy machine we need to fix or a wild animal we must tame. We use terms like the soad mind to describe this internal landscape, but if we look closely, what is actually there? The mind does not exist as an independent entity. It is simply a label, a convenient name we give to the constant stream of thoughts that appear and disappear. Thoughts of what to eat, thoughts of past regrets, and thoughts of future plans all flicker like images on a screen. Among these, the most persistent thought is the one that says "I am doing this" or "I am deciding that." But even these are just thoughts. They arise from nowhere, linger for a moment, and vanish back into the absolute. This separate self, which we mistake for the protagonist of a lifelong movie, is actually just another thought trying to give itself a sense of continuity. It weaves a story to convince itself that it is a solid unit moving through time. It fears the end of its own narrative. This is why the idea of silence or the stopping of thought can feel so threatening. If the thoughts were to stop, it wouldn't be a case of having a "blank mind"—the mind itself would simply not be there. This is the great fear of the separate self: the realization that it has no independent existence. When we investigate where these thoughts come from, the mind begins to dissolve. This dissolution is often met with terror because the separate self senses its own absence. It asks, "But what happens to me now?" The very fact that there is an "I" asking that question shows that the separate self is still trying to maintain its grip, still trying to turn being into a project. The truth is far simpler than any thought can grasp. The forms of thought are far too complex and clumsy to capture the utter simplicity of what you already are. We spend years searching for a "state" of enlightenment, as if it were a peak we had to climb, but there is no path and nowhere to go. You cannot reach where you already are. Whether the body-mind is experiencing a moment of profound serenity or a period of intense anxiety and grief, the totality is equally present. When you feel worried or anxious, that is not a distraction from reality; that is the absolute appearing as worry. When you feel at peace, that is the absolute appearing as peace. They both share the same aware presence that is always here, unchanging and complete. The separate self loves to turn everything into a journey. It wants to believe that meditation is a ladder that will eventually lead to a better version of itself. But meditation is not a path to a future achievement. It might bring some comfort now, it might make the body-mind feel more relaxed in this moment, and that is perfectly fine, but it will never "attain" what is already the case. There is no progress in the absolute.