The Mind We All Share

As children, pure mind is all we rely on.
It’s what makes us seek our mother’s breast, cry when our belly aches,
and smile when someone smiles at us.

It’s a natural mind — direct, alive — responding to life moment by moment.

Then we grow.
And little by little, almost without noticing, certain dynamics begin to form.
Experiences pile up. Words, judgments, fears, beliefs.
Conditioning begins.
And so, the pure mind starts to fade from view.

It becomes something distant, forgotten, buried under everything that arises and agitates itself.
Until one day, we don’t even know it’s there anymore.

We forget that a free, wise, clear mind
is still there — just beyond the fog.

We begin to clash with the world.
To feel separate.
To defend ourselves.
To prove we’re better, smarter, stronger, more educated than others.
Something deeply corrupted begins to take shape.
Something deeply unnatural.

But in truth, there is only one mind — the one we all share.
We may not see it, may not feel it clearly,
but there isn’t a different mind for each person.

There are conditionings that color the mind in different ways,
but the essence — the true nature of mind — knows no separation.
It’s the same mind that pervades everything:
the stone, the plant, the cat, the human being.

It’s a mind that needs no stimulation.
It exists, it functions perfectly, whether we want it to or not.
It’s the mind that knows how to heal a wound when we cut ourselves.
The mind that grows trees,
that stretched the giraffe’s neck over millennia,
that helps the cat find the mouse — and the mouse escape.
It is one.

We may not perceive this clearly — this pure, mirror-like mind
that reflects what is, without distortion, without judgment.
We’re more used to sensing the conditions that move through it:
a flow of thoughts, habits, wounds, fears, beliefs.

It’s these conditions we usually trust,
as if they were the only available source.
We drink from them, and end up misreading reality.

We see the world through deeply personal filters, shaped by our inner stories,
and in doing so, we feel separate, disconnected.
And from that disconnection arise conflict, misunderstanding, and ignorance.

But the moment I see through those conditions —
when I stop identifying with whatever passes through the mind —
a silent clarity begins to emerge.
And then I directly experience the absence of separation.

This mind — free, alive, present — knows.
It knows what’s right and what’s wrong, moment by moment.
It needs no schools of ethics, no religions, no philosophies.
It is wisdom itself — belonging to no one.

The real problem is that we forget this mind.
Not because it’s far away,
but because it’s too close.

And so we lose ourselves in the fog of our conditioning,
while the clear source remains, untouched, patiently waiting.

These past years spent reflecting, meditating, inquiring
have slowly reconnected me with that mind.
With a bit of curiosity and a little determination,
you begin to understand what happened —
and what can be done to live with more clarity.

Or maybe “to improve” isn’t quite the right expression.
Maybe it’s simply about understanding better.
Seeing more clearly what we really are.

Because the more we feed the mind with conditions, desires, fears, ignorance,
the further we drift
from our purest, simplest humanity.

So what can we do about it?

Nothing — if we’re fine with how things are.
If there’s no curiosity, no longing, that’s fine too.

But if there’s even a small desire for truth,
a bit of willingness to experiment with ourselves,
we can begin.

Begin to inquire.
To ask questions.
To sit in stillness now and then.
To look within.
To gently chip away at this wall of conditioning.

For me, this path has helped me better understand others —
and myself.
It’s brought a deep sense of compassion,
in seeing what has happened to us.

And at a certain point, without effort,
I could stop pointing fingers.
At others. At myself.

Because in the end,
no one’s to blame.
It’s all just a small misunderstanding.

…Kind of ironic, isn’t it?
Because that “small misunderstanding” —
the one that makes us believe we’re separate,
that we need to defend ourselves,
that we have to be right —
it creates everything: wars, arguments, loneliness, fear, deception.

And yet, at its core,
it really is just that:
a misunderstanding.