20231104 - 14:58
The more aware one becomes of one’s own awareness as such, the more actuely the senses are felt. One’s habitual entanglement with experience acts as dirt on the lens, creating a veil in front of what is. Selective perception has an inherently dulling effect lending capacity for use by the intelligence. But this master is no wise man, and cares little about honesty. Effectivity is his calling, the abstract his domain. Credit must be given, for effective he is. The veil is a protection for a blade too sharp for its wielder. Recognizing the melody to which the drunken sailor dances, who among us is reserved enough to not join in? Certainly, late at night the voices of the masses, that populous majority, keep me up; singing of woes and misery, of excitement and satisfaction. My sight revealing the separation so often seen past, forced to take into account what otherwise could have been ignored. Where am I? Headless, I don’t know if I am something more than an abstraction. I close my eyes and tune in to the voices flowing down like fresh spring rain. I float away, expand, choosing this time not to deny. Instead I embrace, and recognize my own contingency. I am part of a whole. The end is inscribed in the beginning. Allowing one is accepting the other, and the sought transcendence is not found in its negation but rather its culmination. The radicality suggests a new approach. What if I was what I was? Then alive, then dead. Now a mouse, now a cat. Its existence its own justification, accepted on its own terms. Sadness, misery, suffering: not avoided but simply felt. We would have seen nothing more than what had been prophesized by any man destined to be called great; The kingdom of God is within us.