We are the infinite, in that we are beings, as are all of our fellow beings. The wheel of birth and death is in fact the infinite feeding back on itself and replenishing itself, or at least this is the only reasonable conjecture I myself can make. And who is this “I, myself”? Ultimate reality but also ultimate illusion! I am made of all that composes me on the environmental level, the biological level and the level of relationships to other humans and other life forms of whatever variety. In short: I am one of the ways in which the infinite filters itself, occasionally the filter lets through a burst of chaos that is realization of the infinite that cannot ever be put into satisfactory words, but, being a “word man” myself I try, I bet I will keep trying, it is an interesting exercise in futility after all. No mind can stand that awareness of the infinite constantly, I mean that direct awareness, there is always a background awareness in theory once one has become of aware of this, but we would freeze in place, I feel, if we were constantly aware of it and I know this freezing sensation myself when it comes to more difficult choices or being stuck in some way: knowing this is both beautiful and terrifying, these days, for me, it can be very terrifying when at first realization it was very beautiful. We are ultimately filters, each and everyone, and not just us humans, all organisms I would conjecture, don’t be so quick to pretend you understand fully another person and certainly that you understand fully another being, even one that is not an animal like us humans. Of course if there is any meaning to it all it is beyond us and in the mean time we, as story tellers like we are, do what we do: as Aldous Huxley put this in the utopian novel “Island” we weave symbols as the spider weaves webs. We tell ourselves all sorts of stories to make sense of existence itself, which at bottom makes absolutely no sense we can really discern if we think about it long enough. We tell ourselves stories cause we must, perhaps so do other creatures, perhaps even plant life and bacteria have stories they tell themselves but honestly who knows? We are humans after all, and we have a hard enough time understanding each other! So like I keep saying we tell stories, this is necessary, I guess, this is okay….but it is also necessary that we stop pretending these stories are universal laws, that said. Contests of desire are unavoidable….but to my way of thinking one would do well to minimize this drama by accepting all narratives at least in theory while meanwhile accepting as many as is possible, in actual fact, actual life that is, for each of us to live our own lives unimpeded and, when two or more such narratives come into conflict with each other, it is best we keep in mind that the goal of conflict is to get what we want out of the conflict, not to obliterate our foe from the face of the universe!
Posted on: Thu, 26 Sep 2013 16:41:06 +0000
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