In Through the Out Door

November 26, 2011

Scribbling

We are somewhat diametric creatures, so the story goes. Those quick on the uptake readily recognize that we are animal. Inspection reveals a chemically charged bag of bones. A collective of evolved responses to physical stimuli, if you will. And for some of us…hell, perhaps many, we can stop right there. The view is just fine, thank you. And indeed, some of us prefer to remain with this semi-secure (I almost said circular) knowledge after considerable firing of synapses over the possibilities, just…you know…whatever works, man.

And yet, we do seem to be something more. Somehow more than just the sum of the parts. We have awareness. More than we are aware of, perhaps. We are the consummate dreamers. Championship dreamers. And I am inclined to agree with Sir Emerson,

“There’s nothing capricious in nature, and the implanting of a desire indicates that its gratification is in the constitution of the creature that feels it.”

Dreams, desires. Perhaps they are two sides of the same coin, represented by the tools at hand in each of these realms of our existence. The respective lens through which something, which exists outside the subsets, is filtered and warped. We can be championship warpers, too. Getting ourselves tangled in the underbrush of fears, passions, desires… and as in the physical sense, when you are not in your center of balance you are more easily tipped and swayed.

And they are waiting for you, too. Many of the lost ones. They understand. They create false personas in real or virtual life in order to toy with others absorbed and lost in their own biological juices. They may not be in control of themselves, but they can savor a certain level of satisfaction in controlling you. For money, for some semblance of sanity, or just for kicks; they will squeak the toy and make the tail wag the dog. Misery loves company.

Have fun. Celebrate! Yes, “stay thirsty, my friends”; but caveat emptor.

But this other thing. This awareness. This consciousness. What to make of it? These fantastic dreams that taunt us with mysteries we clumsily grasp at with our alligator arms. Visions and symbols that contain the sense of something we can’t quite contain. Juuust out of reach. Those who cannot exist well with this unsettling uncertainty will harden the symbols. Simplifying things into a paint-by-number with a learned, finite set of rainbow colors.

Me? I believe in Love. Seriously. Love is the doorway. The pointer. As close as we currently come to the big IT. The big WHY? Love will allow you to step back from the physical, the…uh…hormonal, for some needed perspective. Time for a Kit Kat. And again, not to negate the animal; but to balance it, dance with it.

But then, love can fall prey to the warp of our lens as well, eh? Is it fair to fall completely in love with someone and expect the same in return? AAAAAAAAAA-ANK. Wrong question. You may yearn all you wish, but can you really expect it? Is it any different from being able to finally fall in love with everything, and expecting the world to then conform to what you want it to be? The world will be the same…and yet it will not…

I believe in Love. I believe it exists outside of our ability to lose complete sight of it. A beacon to beckon us forward, regardless of how much we turn to look back from where we came.

I believe in Love. Love without conditions. Love without fantasy, and unrealistic answers to unrealistic questions.

A sense of connection. To ourselves, to each other, to everything…

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5 Comments on “In Through the Out Door”

    • Brett Myers Says:

      Sort of a Catch 22. I think you have to find that connection within yourself, and good chance you won’t at a meaningful level by following someone else prescription. I can suggest what has helped me, which is learning about as many pointer systems as I can, the cultures which helped spawned them, and looking for the relevance and common denominator, so to speak. From there I think you gravitate toward that with which you resonate. I find organized religion often somewhat ironic, in that emphasis on a particular dogma is a trap, in itself. I also think meditation (again, without getting too caught up in a particular practice) is a great way to not be drowned in all the external noise, and find what lies within…and patience… 🙂

      Reply

  1. elizabethyon Says:

    You make me ponder. Yesterday, in the woods, I found myself open to everything and part of it all. In love. Later that night, I sat drinking wine and talking with my writers’ group, open to them and part of them. Love. When I got home and snuggled in my fuzzy PJs and big, warm socks and sweatshirt – surrounded by my cats and husband – love again. And I didn’t have to do anything but allow it to happen. How is it so easy to lose sight of from moment to moment when it’s so accessible? I’m pondering…

    Reply

  2. Nicola Says:

    Interesting – I think it is a kind of sense of connection but I’m not sure what else it is

    Reply

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