Watch the thoughts
To watch the thoughts is to step out of the stream of habitual thinking and into the vast openness of the present moment. When we become aware of the thoughts that come and go we have more clarity. These thoughts do not define who we are.
It is through the act of watching without judgment, without attachment that we begin to realize the deep limitations we impose upon ourselves. These limitations are not inherent to our true nature; they are the result of holding on to the patterns of thought that no longer serve us. Thoughts of fear, doubt, and separation bind us to a false sense of identity, leading us further away from the recognition of oneness. To watch these thoughts is to liberate yourself.
The mind is a garden. If left unattended, it grows wild with weeds that can be seen as wicked thoughts that sprout up. But if we begin to observe these thoughts, we become the gardener of our own mind. We can choose which thoughts to nurture and which to let pass. In this way, we cultivate a mind that reflects the true harmony of the universe, free from the dissonance of false thinking.
The importance of watching the thoughts lies in the awareness it brings. We are not our thoughts. We are the observer, watching the thoughts as they come up. It is only when we identify with the thoughts that we fall for the trap. It is through this quiet watching that we begin to understand how the mind perceives itself, how it weaves together its ideas of who and what we are. Much of this goes unnoticed when the thoughts are created and flutter away without us watching them. They can arise, move, and shape our experience, yet without awareness, they dictate our sense of self without ever being questioned.
But when we watch, when we truly observe without interference, we begin to see the deeper workings of the mind. We see the patterns it follows, the fears it clings to, the narratives it constructs, the assumptions it comes up with before we really know. We start to understand why we are the way we are because in the stillness of observation, truth reveals itself.
Flamingos are pink not by nature, but by nourishment. Their vivid color comes from carotenoids, pigments found in the algae, brine shrimp, and aquatic life they consume. The body is, quite literally, what it eats. So too is the mind. The physical body reflects what we place into it, and the mind reflects what thoughts it consumes. Just as food shapes flesh, thoughts shape character.
Thoughts form the subtle scaffolding of who we believe we are. They create the ideas we carry about ourselves, what we can do, what we are worth, what we fear, and what we desire. Repeated often enough, they become the lens through which we see the world and ourselves.
They are not idle. Thoughts are the quiet architects of our habits, carving grooves into the mind and behavior, whether in service of clarity or confusion, peace or agitation. The life we live, in many ways, is born out of the diet of thoughts we choose. To watch the thoughts is to observe this shaping as it happens. It is to know that our mind molds itself from what and how we think. What we feed the mind flows directly into how we live and feel. Once we see this clearly, we can choose what comes in.
To watch the thoughts is to begin noticing not only their nature, but their origin. When we allow ourselves to consume noise without discernment, whether it be streaming shows designed to hold our attention or social media clips on a never-ending loop, we unknowingly feed the mind with debris. We can notice how certain content leaves us anxious, bitter, envious, or restless. We see how comparison sneaks in when we scroll endlessly through social media lives dressed up for show.
This is not to say that all media is harmful. Television shows are not inherently bad and going to the movies remains one of the world’s favorite pastimes. Often, there is deep wisdom tucked within a story, a character's journey, or a simple line of dialogue. Art can reflect truth, inspire change, or awaken something within us that had long been asleep. But even in this, there must be a gentle awareness. A noticing of what we are consuming and how it is shaping our inner world. Not all content is crafted with clarity. Some is made only to provoke, to hook, to distract. When we watch closely, we begin to feel the difference. We can see clearly how certain content leaves a residue. I have seen some of the modern television shows made for children, and it becomes almost instantly apparent what is at play. The creators are doing everything in their power to stimulate and hold the child's attention, often at the cost of concentration and the ability to maintain focus. Bright colors, loud sounds, rapid cuts, all by design.
With observation comes the power to choose. We can see the effects of certain decisions and how we unconsciously choose the bad or harmful. We notice the addictions that we really didn’t know we have or the extent to which the addictions have control over us. We become more selective, and rooted in what nourishes, rather than what numbs.
Only you can decide what is good for you. What nourishes one mind may agitate another. There is no universal list of what to avoid, only the honesty of your own awareness.
To watch the thoughts is to regain sovereignty over the inner life. It is to pause and ask, what am I feeding my mind? What am I becoming through this consumption? And in that pause, something powerful is born. The choice to feed the mind with clarity instead of confusion and peace instead of noise. The one who watches becomes the gatekeeper, no longer a passive recipient of mental clutter but a conscious cultivator of the inner field.
The next time your phone rings, pause for a moment before answering. Naturally you look at the name on the caller ID, but this time watch what happens in your mind. Almost instantly, without effort, a certain personality arises. A version of "you" that matches the person on the other end. If it is a close friend, you may feel at ease, playful, open. If it is a colleague, a certain professionalism emerges. If it is a family member, a familiar role is assumed, perhaps the responsible one, or the caretaker. Notice how effortlessly these identities shift, how the mind automatically assigns a "self" to each interaction. These versions of you are not consciously chosen; they arise as patterns formed over years of interaction and conditioning. Yet, how often do we actually see this process as it happens? Most go through life simply being these shifting selves, never pausing to recognize that they are not fixed identities but passing roles.
This practice of watching allows you to understand yourself in a way you never have before. You see the unseen forces that are creating the conceptions of yourself. And in this seeing, you step into freedom. You are no longer bound by the unconscious play of personalities.
This is not to say that having different versions of yourself is unacceptable. It’s almost inevitable that we adapt to the relationships and situations life presents. The mind has learned to respond in different ways, to shift and shape itself as needed. There is no harm in this. The problem arises only when we mistake these shifting versions for who we truly are. By seeing this process unfold, you are not rejecting these expressions of yourself. You are simply bringing awareness to them. And in this awareness, something deeper emerges. The truth of you rises.
This seeing does not take away from your personality; it only refines it. When you are no longer unconsciously bound to the shifting roles, you move through them with freedom, with lightness. You no longer act out of habit, but out of authenticity. The real you can shine through, unobstructed and radiant. What to say seems to flow to you more effortlessly, for you are no longer trying to be someone you think you should be. The words and actions that come are not forced or rehearsed but arise naturally from your true essence. In this space, you are no longer weighed down by the need to perform, to fit into a mold. The truth of who you are guides you, and in that guidance, life flows.
As you watch, you may also notice how often the mind blames, how often it complains. It casts the world as unfair, the people around you as the cause of your unease. You can see the inner dialogue in real time saying, “The reason for me not getting what I want is because this or that.” This habit weakens the spirit. It gives your power away.
Often, behind the complaints is a quiet cry for help. A secret wish for someone to appear, to rescue, to fix everything. But no one is coming. No savior will rise from the noise to lift you out of the struggle. The responsibility is yours. To watch your thoughts is to see this clearly.
You begin to recognize that every moment, whether in strength or in sorrow, you are shaping the idea of who you believe yourself to be. There is no pause in this creation. The mind paints constantly whether we’re paying attention or not. The magic lies not in stopping the mind, but in becoming aware of the painter, and deciding what to paint.
To watch the thoughts is not to suppress them, but to see them without attachment. We do not need to control or eliminate them, but rather, we simply observe their coming and going. The struggle begins when we resist. The moment we fight a thought, we give it power. We push against it, and in doing so, we bind ourselves to it. If a thought arises that disturbs us, we may try to suppress it, to argue with it, to force it away. But this resistance is like wrestling with the wind, futile, exhausting, and ultimately unnecessary. When a thought appears, whether pleasant or troubling, let it be. See it for what it is: a passing occurrence in the vastness of your awareness. There is no need to push it away, no need to engage with it.
At first, this will not be easy. The habit of identifying with thoughts is deeply ingrained, reinforced by years of unconscious conditioning. The mind has been conditioned to react, to resist, to engage in a certain way. To simply watch without interference may feel unnatural at first, as though you are letting go of control. But this is a practice that requires patience and gentle persistence. In the beginning, you may catch yourself getting pulled into thoughts or habitual thinking, but each time you bring your awareness back to observing, you strengthen your ability to remain free. Over time, with practice, the grip of thought identification loosens.
Many people spend their lives at war with their own minds. They believe they must rid themselves of negative thoughts, must always think positively, must force their mind into a state of peace. But peace is not achieved through force. The more we resist, the more we suffer. True freedom comes not from control, but from surrender. And so, when a thought arises, be it of fear, doubt, anger or sorrow, do not fight it. Do not grasp at it, do not push it away. Simply observe. Let it come and let it go.
The best way to weaken what’s false is to bring awareness to it. Falsehoods can only persist when we remain unaware of them, when we live unconsciously. As soon as we shine the light of awareness on them, they begin to vanish. It is through conscious recognition that we dismantle the false and uncover the truth.
In Plato’s allegory of the cave, prisoners are held deep within a cavern, their eyes fixed on a wall before them. Behind them burns a fire, casting shadows of passing objects onto the wall. Knowing nothing else, the prisoners believe the shadows to be all that exist. One prisoner is freed and climbs out of the cave. At first, the sunlight blinds him, but in time, he sees clearly. He comes to understand that the shadows were never real, only images of something greater.
Like the prisoner who climbs out of the cave, we too can free ourselves. We can turn away from the shadows we mistake for reality and step into the light of truth. We need to see things for what they really are. At first, the truth may be difficult to bear, but in time, clarity comes. We realize that what we once relied on wasn’t actually real.
Picture a thought-generating machine, with forces vying for the power to use it. It’s like the power struggle we see within the political world. This shift in seeing or feeling the thoughts generate, changes everything. For in seeing the source, you gain the power to shape what it produces. It becomes easier to let the harmful patterns fall away and allow more wholesome, uplifting thoughts to emerge. You can gain a better understanding of the thought machine. You can see it more clearly. And in that clarity, the mind becomes an instrument of peace rather than conflict, a gentle stream rather than a storm.
To watch the thoughts is not merely to witness the patterns of the mind; it is to step beyond them, to slip into the vast and boundless reality in which all things move as one. It is to see, at last, that you were never separate as many of the thoughts made it seem. In watching, what is false shows itself and then melts. The disguises come out from hiding and then dissolve into nothingness, which is what they are: nothing. You are not the thoughts. You are the one watching them.
