It is strange how much we resist the inherent peace and quiet that is always possible. Perhaps this is because resting in simple presence is so foreign to a lifelong habit of mental complication, and we may have confused complication with a sense of aliveness. We may assume that having no particular mental project would result in boredom. Or we may be overwhelmed by how vast and free life suddenly feels when our minds are not on the hunt.
You wouldn't think
It would be so easy
To forget
Who we really are
Or that death is always at our shoulder
Or that everything is alive
Or that God is everywhere singing.