If you think of the world as a world of stories – because that’s what it is – then you can see that the worst stories try to control and mind-fuck the herd in some way. They’re collective, they’re sloppy, and they have no honor for the individual thinker – the rationalist observing the here-now …
Is any of this interesting. Maybe. But what do I know? That there’s an “in-between” world, that houses beauty, and we touch it only furtively.We fear it and avoid it because it tells us we’re wrong about what we’re doing.Our ways are somehow misaligned with nature.This bothers us for entire lifetimes. Yet, we keep coming …
I am a potion of chemicals, cells, muscles and bones walking around a town.I am a beaker test sending results back to who knows where.I am a nerve castle from toe to head.I am is.I am world.I am as real as a dream that ends when the eyes open to this other dream.
To see clearly from moment to momentand accept what is. And what does it mean to see clearly? To take in what you can perceive as true.To eliminate the stuff that’s not true.And that, more often than not, includes a ration of self-told stories, alerts and other internal bothersancesthat cloud the lens of looking directly. …
And how would I die?Why be safe?What is chance?What is bad luck but a story laid over chance?What is anything?Is there urgency here?What’s urgent? Not that you do anything or solve anything for someone else.But that you live the moments clearly – thankful that the lights are on;that the eyes are open;that the senses are …
