Dr Dosti Regmi Blog

Smartly Dumb, Dumbly Smart There are days when I have been the wisest person alive. At least in my own mind. Every answer seemed obvious, every opinion felt profound, every path appeared clear. And there are days when I have been the greatest fool. Not necessarily in the eyes of others, but within myself. The same mind that built castles of certainty yesterday wanders lost in fog today. So how shall I trust it? How do I know whether a thought is intelligent or merely dressed in intelligence? How do I know whether a doubt is ignorance or the beginning of wisdom? The possibility remains: That I may be dumbly smart— clever enough to deceive myself. Or smartly dumb— humble enough to know I do not know. The mind wears many masks. One day it speaks as a philosopher, another day as a fool. One day it conquers the world, another day it cannot find its own way home. And so I ask myself: Why be carried away by either smartness or stupidity? Why build a throne from praise or a p...

  Everyone lives life inside a pair of shoes. Some shoes are dusty, some are polished. Some are new, some are old. But where the shoe pinches, where it hurts inside, only the one wearing it knows.

  I had an even better poem in my mind, but I settled for this one. Beauty is not spoken of. Beauty is not written. Beauty is embodied. मेरो मनमा अझै राम्रो कविता थियो, तर मैले त्यसलाई शब्द दिइनँ। सौन्दर्य बोलिँदैन, सौन्दर्य लेखिँदैन, सौन्दर्य मात्र बाँचिन्छ।

 

  The Wandering Mind Three Stories About How We Lose Ourselves There is a peculiar habit of the human mind: It rarely leaps into trouble all at once. More often, it wanders. One thought leads to another, one desire gives birth to the next, and one solution quietly creates a new problem. Before we realize it, we find ourselves far from where we originally intended to go. Ancient spiritual traditions understood this tendency long before psychology and neuroscience gave it names. Two stories—one from the Hindu monastic tradition and one from Zen Buddhism—offer timeless insights  into the wandering nature of the mind, its distractions and compulsions.   The monk and the loincloth: The first story tells of a monk who lived alone in a forest hut. His possessions were few: a begging bowl, a water pot, and a single loincloth. His life was simple and devoted to meditation, prayer, and silence. One day, however, a rat chewed holes in his loincloth. Annoyed by the recurr...