| IX625 Annuit Coeptis Three | Mechanisms Table of Contents Fresh Thoughts Breathe Deeply Magnetic Imagery Reach Out and Touch Someone Thinker Toys Give and Take It's a Small World A Penny for Your Thoughts Leftovertures Afterwyrd Artifactual Respiration One | Metaphors Two | Surroundings Four | Connections Home Site Map Contact Search Message Board |
Uncomfortably
Numb The Interactive Newsletter You Never Asked For Artifactual Respiration Perhaps we're not so much "growing up," as people say, as awakening from a kind of fevered dream. Writing this issue has been quite different than the other two. Maybe something inside me is beginning to awaken. Sometimes the words flowed like they were being squirted out of a hosealmost as if they knew what they were doing... [He] felt the words wash over him. They were like swarming creatures. He had a strange fantasy the things were seeking places within him to lay their young. Of course, it's well to remember that our language is a crude artifice. Words combine like mud and straw baked in the sun, fashioning the irregular bricksmetaphorscontained within these pages. There are, most likely, more effective, substantial, tangible devices to utilize, but for now, they elude me. True creativity often starts where language ends. There's a wonderful paradox hidden within these words, whether they spilled onto the page in a gushing flow, or, were laboriously pried from my mind, one - at - a - time. There may be resplendent beauty in some of these thoughts, but subjectivity sometimes hinders our ability to distinguish paste from pearls. Words bend our thinking to infinite paths of self-delusion, and the fact that we spend most of our mental lives in brain mansions built of words means that we lack the objectivity necessary to see the terrible distortions of reality which language brings. Maybe we should don Walt Whitman's audacious attitude when confronting the helping/hindering nature of language and just shrug it off: Do I contradict myself? The point, is not to be daunted by this paradox. Our tools may be crude, but we artisans may be inspired: we can imagine and intuit our way, bridging the gaping chasm between the scratches on these pages and the visions of our soul. If we believe, we can. We can because we've remembered we can. Virgil, among others, would urge us to begin acting on this recovered memory. Such as Ralph Chaplin's: Mourn not the dead in that cool earth lie There's a poem in Bernie Siegel's Love, Medicine & Miracles that eloquently sums up the perceptual/conceptual leap we must make to combine and transform Virgil's "They can because they think they can," and Borghese's "It is necessary; therefore, it is possible," into: "We will because we know it is necessary." Come to the edge. The time has come for our spirits to soarto bring light and life to the masses... We have been forced to adapt, to make use of a new talent that was lurking in the wings of evolution... Certain moments qualify / In winter's darkest storm As was written in Give and Take: I claim to have seen a "layer of communication" that's designed to transform us, "to reach into us and awaken the hero withinthe benevolent, loving being that lurks just below the conscious level in most of us, most of the time." I've been led to believe that we are living in a time of transition, that we're encouragedurgedto actively participate in the transformation of humanity. There's an ebb and flow of awareness driven by emotional gravitation. The tidal surges we're beginning to feel are the inexorable onward rush of Love followed by the terribly illusive rip-currents of dread. The ebb tide of doubt and fear will slacken, and eventually cease altogether, but before that time I expect a fevered frenzy of emotive resistance when the onset of transformation is more clearly perceived by the masses. It doesn't matter that the transformative process will be wondrous, the specter of awakening contains the seed of a memory we've been thoroughly conditioned to fearthe latent recollection of a wrong that must be righted before we move on with our chrysalis. Some of us will have to provide the soothing, healing, empathetic balm of unconditional lovethe guiding light of our Golden Rulesharing and shining, all the way home. Rest / Rest and listen / Rest and listen and learn Credit where credit is due: Ramana Maharshi's quotation in Thinker Toys, was lifted from Yatri's Unknown Man. Yatri's the one who first thought of using this quotation to help illustrate Rupert Sheldrake's morphogenetic fields. The quotation fit so well into his work, it was too good to pass up in mine. Thanks, Yatri. The idea for the chapter entitled: Leftovertures, came directly from the 1976 Kansas album of the same name (in the singular: Leftoverture). The title and the cover art still resonate in my memory, as does this song from that same album: Once I rose above the noise and confusion ![]() Remember... Respond... Restore... Respire... Resonate... Issue Four |