Staring at the ceiling fan.

≽^•⩊•^≼One time I was staring at the ceiling fan, and I got stuck on the edge of the fan blades. I started wondering, what holds the edge of the blade together? Why doesn’t it just sort of evaporate? Like, what keeps the edge attached to the blade itself? I was thinking, if things can come off an object  like with a strawberry, where something has to come off it for you to smell it  then why doesn’t that just keep happening until the strawberry is gone? But it doesn’t. The smell only goes so far, then it stops. So I was sitting with that thought, not really knowing what to do with it. Then I noticed a small bowl on my desk, and I stared at it for maybe two hours, maybe three. And after a while I realized that the small bowl wasn’t a small bowl. It was just a "thing" that you call a bowl. And somehow that relieved a kind of mental pressure, because once I understood that it wasn’t inherently one thing, it was free again to be the bowl." And then, two weeks after this, I heard the song The Mountain by Donovan, and it knocked me down. He was saying the same thing but instead of a bowl he was using the mountain. And then I learned about this guy Qingyuan Weixin. ≽(•⩊ •マ≼A monk spends twenty seven years in meditation and practice and finally learns to walk on water. Proud of what he has achieved, he goes to his master and says, “Master, I can walk on water.” The master looks at him and says, “But the ferry’s only a penny.”