Thoughts About Zen

Connect the dots.
Line by line.
Move by move.
Action by action.
Tear by tear.
Another face. Another hand. Another persona tickling my insides.
Who is she? This persona.
Is it a SHE, a HE, a THEY, an IT? Is it a THING at all? Is it a THINK at all?
The invention of words is the gift that keeps on taking. It takes the absence of meaning. It takes the floodgates of possibility. Knowing what someone IS, alters it, changes it, takes it. To exist in the beginner's mind, like a baby learning how to walk, how to talk, how to ask, how to feel. NO - we don't learn how to feel. We learn how to mask our feeling. How to turn away from our feelings. It is the curse of life - the learning. How to unlearn is the task at hand, how to unlearn is the goal. Unlearning what is learned - is being born again. Is sliding out of the warm womb, in a tube, holding our breath and lashing out into the dots we must connect in order to survive.
But truth is - the beginner's mind is the beginner's lack of mind.
​The mind's delay in sifting itself into the body. Sure, it's a protector but where one protects one may imprison. The prison of our mind is what we learn. The mind is a VERY good student, it's a straight A student, and a goal setter, eager to reach level of expertise. The expertise of controlling one's feelings, one's heart, one's safety. Creative unsafety is getting out of the womb faster than the mind. Racing it and WINNING the race, for a rare occasion. 
Oh, thoughts. You are incredible little vessels of truth. Who am I without you? 
I AM without you. I AM. Just AM. AM. A..... 
Oh, thoughts. Helping me, shielding me, connecting me, separating me all at once. 
Because nothing is ever one thing. Nothing is = everything.