A mind that’s not thinking is like a drill that’s not drilling.
Thinking is mostly a meandering, purposeless activity. Love doesn’t think. Beauty doesn’t think. Consciousness has no thought process. In Ode to a Nightingale, John Keats wrote that “the dull brain perplexes and retards”.
We enter the natural world not for what is there—mountains, forests, streams, animals and all the rest—but for what isn’t there. Thinking. We can enter the natural world from here. Now.
Thinking is not loving.
We shift our attention from the outer to the inner world by maintaining a moment-to-moment awareness of every thought, feeling and action. Here ends the unobserved life. From now on, nothing happens inadvertently.