Một dòng thở nhẹ – Nhật ký Thiền

This morning the sky was clear, the wind gentle.
I sat by the window, watching the first rays of sunlight fall onto the porch.
Inside me was a strange stillness – not because the mind was completely quiet, but because I was looking at the mind in a different way.

I opened my meditation journal and asked myself:

“Who is observing my mind right now?”

That question was like a small bell.

It didn’t demand an answer.
It simply invited me to look deeper.

Clear morning silence
A soft question arises
Who is seeing whom?

I closed my eyes and brought my attention to the movements inside.
I saw a thought arise:

“Today I have many things to do.”

Immediately, another part of me said:
“Stop thinking, you’re meditating.”

And then yet another part appeared:

“Why do I keep thinking so much?”

Three layers of mind, three voices, three reactions.
But when I looked closely, I saw all three were just movements of the mind, none of them was “me.”

Thoughts follow each other
Like waves crashing on the shore
But no shore is real

While observing, I remembered the words of JidduKrishnamurti:

“The observer is the observed.”

In the past, I read that sentence without understanding.
I thought the observer was “me,” and the observed was “my mind.”
Two separate things.

But this morning, when I looked at the layers of thought, I saw clearly:
there is no “me” standing outside to observe.
There is only observation happening.

A thought arises.
Another thought observes that thought.
Then another thought observes both.
All of them are mind.
There is no “observer” outside the mind.

No observer here
Only the stream of knowing
Silent and bright

I tried looking deeper.
When a thought appeared, I didn’t name it.
When a feeling arose, I didn’t categorize it.
When a reaction happened, I didn’t judge it.

I just looked.

And in that looking, I saw something strange:
when there is no observer, the mind becomes transparent.

No more conflict.
No more resistance.

No more chasing.
No more “I must be this,” “I must not be that.”

Only the flow of mind – natural, gentle, undivided.

Mind like flowing water
No banks dividing it
It returns to stillness

I remembered a time in the past when I tried to “observe the mind” using a meditation technique.

I tried to stand outside the mind, like a supervisor.

I tried to “watch” the mind as if watching an object.

But the more I tried, the more divided I felt:
one part observing, one part being observed.
And that division created tension.

Jiddu Krishnamurti said:

“When the observer ends, conflict ends.”

Today, I understand that sentence a little more.
It is not about “eliminating” the observer.
It is seeing that the observer never truly existed.
There is only the mind – in its countless forms.

When there is no ‘me’
The mind becomes one whole
Light as drifting clouds

I opened my eyes, watching the sunlight spreading across the ground.

I felt a lightness inside – not because the mind was quiet, but because I no longer tried to divide the mind into “observer” and “observed.”

I only saw one single flow.

And in that flow, there was freedom.

One single stream
No two, no division
Freedom arises

Ending today’s meditation journal, I wrote a small question to carry with me:

“When I observe the mind, who is the one observing?”

Perhaps just by keeping that question in my heart, I will see the mind becoming more transparent – not because I try, but because I am learning to look without dividing.