"I'm tired of thinking."
Haru slumped over the desk.
Simon closed his book. "Want to stop thinking?"
"Can I?"
"A difficult question."
Mio sat quietly. As usual, without words.
Haru looked at Mio. "Is Mio thinking?"
Mio tilted her head slightly.
Simon explained. "She might be thinking in a different form."
"Different form?"
"Linguistic thought versus non-linguistic thought."
Haru became interested. "Isn't thinking only with words?"
"Descartes said 'I think, therefore I am.' But what thinking is wasn't defined."
"Definition of thinking?"
"Thinking with words, thinking with images, or thinking with sensations?"
Mio gazed out the window. Calm expression.
"What is Mio seeing?" Haru murmured.
"Seeing itself might be thinking," Simon said.
"Just seeing?"
"Merleau-Ponty said, 'Seeing is a form of thought.'"
Haru was confused. "But sometimes I'm not thinking anything."
"Really?" Simon questioned.
"When spacing out."
"Is that non-thought, or thought that can't be verbalized?"
Haru pondered. "I don't know."
"In Eastern philosophy, there's the concept of mushin."
"Mushin?"
"Emptying the mind. But it's not cessation of thought."
"Isn't that contradictory?"
Mio stood up and opened the window. Wind entered.
"Something just happened," Haru felt.
"She communicated without using words," Simon said.
"Without thinking?"
"No, non-linguistic thought."
Haru took a deep breath. "The air changed."
"Yes. Feeling that is also a kind of thought."
Mio sat down again. Quiet breathing.
Haru asked. "So thinking never stops?"
"Buddha taught stopping afflictions. But that's not elimination of thought."
"What's different?"
"Difference between distraction and clear consciousness."
Haru began to understand. "Not that thinking stops, but the noise stops?"
"Good understanding," Simon acknowledged.
"Mio's quietness?"
"She might not have internal noise."
Haru said enviously, "How?"
"Practice, probably. Meditation, introspection, observation."
Mio looked this way. Then smiled slightly.
Haru was surprised. "I feel like we just connected."
"Without words?"
"Yes. Her quietness is communicating something."
Simon said philosophically, "Heidegger called silence 'the voice of being.'"
"Voice of being?"
"Pre-linguistic, more fundamental understanding."
Haru closed her eyes. "I'll try."
Several minutes of silence.
Haru opened her eyes. "Difficult. Various thoughts emerge."
"That's normal," Simon said. "Thoughts naturally arise."
"Can't stop them?"
"Trying to stop them increases them. A paradox."
"Then how?"
Mio stood up and placed a hand on Haru's shoulder.
Haru was surprised. Mio's first touch.
Mio said nothing and sat down again.
Simon said quietly, "What did you feel now?"
"...Warmth. Kindness."
"Is that linguistic thought?"
"No. More direct."
"That's another form of thought."
Haru understood. "Thinking doesn't stop. But its form changes?"
"Yes. From language to sensation. From analysis to integration."
Mio nodded quietly.
Haru asked. "Will the moment thinking stops ever come?"
"In Zen, there's a state called 'no-thought, no-conception.' But it's not loss of consciousness."
"Then what?"
"A moment when distinction between object and subject disappears."
Haru was confused. "Difficult."
"Can't understand without experiencing it," Simon smiled.
Mio gazed at the window. Her figure seemed like an answer.
Haru murmured. "Maybe the moment thinking stops is when you stop trying to stop it."
Simon was surprised. "Profound insight."
"I learned from Mio."
Mio smiled slightly.
Thinking doesn't stop. But it transforms. From words to silence. From noise to quietness.
That was the true deepening of thought.