The king with seven holes

One sentence has been in your head for thirty passes and you still haven't decided anything.

You rewrote the message three times. You deleted two of them. The one you didn't send was fine.

There is a kind of thinking that looks like work and behaves like a cage. It takes a feeling and turns it into a cause. It takes the cause and turns it into your childhood. It takes your childhood and turns it into one sentence. Then it uses the sentence as evidence against you.

Zhuangzi told a story about three emperors. Two of them, Shu and Hu, used to visit the third, Hundun, whose name means chaos. He was a good host. They wanted to repay him. They noticed he had no eyes, no ears, no nostrils, no mouth, while everyone else had seven openings for seeing and hearing and eating and breathing. So they decided to give him some. One hole a day, drilled with care.

On the seventh day, the seven openings were finished. And Hundun died.

Zhuangzi doesn't comment. He just ends the story there and lets you sit with the fact that they killed him out of gratitude.

Most self-examination works on the same model. Careful, daily, well-intentioned drilling, until the thing that was alive in you has been explained all the way down and doesn't move anymore.

MOJOWAY is a place to set the analysis down for a minute and just look. Getting to know yourself is a practice you come back to, not a puzzle you finish once.