
Tri Body 2021 100*150 cm Oil on canvas
Tri Body
The body.
The self.
The mind.
When the body-self falls into despair,
crying until it cannot breathe,
the conscious self gently comforts her:
It's okay.
I love you, baby.
Let's go eat something delicious.
But when the conscious self becomes ill"
she whispers,
I'm tired.
I want to leave.
The body-self keeps living,
yet cries as she resists with everything she has:
No.
Please don't.
I'm scared.
I want to live.
For many years,
I simply watched them argue.
Eventually,
I learned another skill:
to observe.
To observe the thoughts the mind creates.
To observe emotions rising,
and dissolving.
The body-self feels like a little girl.
She cries easily,
yet she is innocent,
kind,
and endlessly hopeful.
The conscious self feels like an older sister.
Gentle.
Melancholic.
Protective.
She comforts the little girl,
while quietly carrying her own invisible illness.
But over time,
I began to question something.
Neither of them
seems to be me.
So"
Who am I?
I discovered that feelings"
joy,
grief,
fear,
and much of what we call reality
are merely chemical signals generated by the brain.
If those signals can change,
then reality changes with them.
Like rewriting a piece of code,
altering the program changes the world it produces.
Perhaps the world is not what it is"
but what the mind allows us to perceive.
In Buddhism,
this practice is called Śamatha and Vipassanā"
stillness and observation.
Stop chasing thoughts.
Simply watch.
Watch the body.
Watch the mind.
And then,
watch the one who is watching.
Perhaps
that is where the real self resides.
perhaps
there is no true self.
Perhaps there is only the act of observing.
| 
| 
|