I feel so tricksy! Sitting on my cluttered but comfortable patio on a blindingly bright and sunny summer day in the American desert southwest, feeling a cool dry breeze pull the moisture from the surface of my skin before it could form sweat, watching the day come to life typing away on my tablet listening to Pink sing We can learn to love again.
Contemplation is doing the time warp, meditation tries to escape this distraction by becoming at one with the here and now. Thinking about imposes a time distortion, the experience is past, where do we go from here. Do we go sailing across uncharted waters?
Materialism would have us see existence as the sum of all we can have and know, that which is measurable and definable, that which we share in common not what we know and experience, which they have managed to convince us is faulty, false even, all we can know is the vision afforded by a deficient processing machine.
You are reading these words so for this moment at least I am communicating with you. You probably think I’m a pretty strange duck. I am, I am a disco duck, join me on the dance floor of life. I accept that I can never see the flow of experience as you do, I will never know if thought is the same experience for you as for me. But we do hold language in common, and the experience of reality.
Other things we share in common, dark and light, want and surfeit. Desire and desperation. I, Don Quixote, man of La Mancha, hear the music of the spheres, the resonance of the celestial harmony that anchors awareness to time and space, the here-ness of now. I remember as a kid wishing to know someone as well as Richard and Karen seemed to know one another when I listened to them singing Close To You. We’ve only just begin never did much for me.
I really don’t envy youth the experience ahead of them, young people just beginning to experience their lives. I did my time, served my sentence being sentient. God made me because he wants me to be me and when this experience I will return to whence I came. I will not just “not be”. If that’s the best science can come up with, I guess the advertising executives are right and people will buy any lie as long as it gets them what they think they want, what they are being told to want.
There is no right or wrong way, there is only the way, the way it happens. We experience, our senses record and our mind assigns value to the accumulated data, determines what deserves our attention, and provokes the chemical changes necessary to provoke us into the proper emotional state to deal with the challenge. That’s life.
Tuesday morning, clear, not quite as bright as yesterday, scattered cloud cover provides respite from periods of direct sunlight. When I was young I thought that there was available a pure and perfect language that would and could speak to anyone anywhere. I became a reader because I was isolated and alone and no one around me seemed even remotely like me, no one wanted to talk about things I found fascinating, no one I knew wanted to be do have. A couple of my mother’s sisters were avid if indiscriminate readers and they gave me access to books that would never have been brought to my attention in the local library. Books brought me in contact with others who were like me, full of questions and concerns but desperate to be do have.