Unstable Matter

Grönlund-Nisunen - Unstable Matter - 2013 from Tommi Grönlund-Petteri Nisunen on Vimeo.

Pointillist life

There is a metaphor, for me, in the bits using Georges Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.  

I am touched, so to speak, by pointillism.

Inside my head

Singular Fire

Fire drawing from Glithero on Vimeo.

It seems that the embedding of this video is a little strange.  I see a nice preview.  chuck sees Vimeo gobbledy gook.

It really is a nice metaphor.

Perfect

Singularity snapshot

If the bite of dal in my mouth had a flake of oregano in it, it would have a different flavor.  And even if it didn't have a different flavor to my tastebuds because it didn't land on one of them before I swallowed, it would still be different in composition than the bite without the oregano.  Whether or not I am immediately aware of the difference, it would be present.

This flake of oregano cannot be aware of the flake of coconut on the other side of the universe (ha!), but the flavor is still in the mixture, nonetheless.

Except the coconut atom is here and there at the same time.

Once, I was Quaker

"When William Penn was convinced of the principles of Friends, and became a frequent attendant at their meetings, he did not immediately relinquish his gay apparel; it is even said that he wore a sword, as was then customary among men of rank and fashion . Being one day in company with George Fox, he asked his advice concerning it, saying that he might, perhaps, appear singular among Friends, but his sword had once been the means of saving his life without injuring his antagonist, and moreover, that Christ has said, "he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one." George Fox answered, "I advise thee to wear it as long as thou canst." Not long after this they met again, when William had no sword, and George said to him, "William, where is t hy sword?" "Oh!" said he, I have taken thy advice; I wore it as long as I could."

The link in the title says this is a Quaker fable.  That piece of information doesn't make the story any less useful.

Do whatever it is that is fretting you for "as long as thou canst." and when that becomes intolerable, do something else.

Because it is my heart.

I found an article about dancing a labyrinth by Sherry Bulel several months ago. I really like the article. I love the idea of allowing grace to move into and through us.

But I didn't join her online community. It feels unbalanced to me.

Not Unbalanced/whack job. Unbalanced/all yin-no yang.

And that's fine. There are a lot of communities working on helping people to find joy in the world and that's a good thing. There are a lot of gloom-and-doom websites, too. I don't join them, either.

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"Why do you do that if it hurts?" "'Cause it feels so good when I stop."

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In The Desert
~Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.”

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I frequently use the metaphor of Reality as an amusement park to myself and when I'm talking to my sweetheart. Sometimes, the Hall of Mirrors is appropriate; usually when I'm talking about Maya/delusion/ego. Sometimes, its the roller coaster; usually when I mean the story/life of the meat.

In this instance, going with the roller coaster is correct.

______________________________

I am not comfortable with all one or all the other. The roller coaster goes up AND down. The raft pops up on the other side when you lean on it.

Only looking at one side feels like sticking my fingers in my ears singing la-la-la-la-la.

______________________________

It amuses me to find this, TODAY, to add to this post.

New metaphor

I've decided that I like the image of the World/Meatspace as an orgasm of IS/Singularity.

I am living with a subliminal, constant awareness of All/One and that works for me.

Programming

I get tickled watching the programming of the meat as it does its thing.  [more trivial than usual exposition deleted]  The meat is still the meat in spite of not using words like "I" and "Is" and "this is important".  Because the story is still gonna get told.  The lines still get said and the sets still get moved on and off the stage of our awareness.  The bathroom still needs cleaning, pizza straight out of the oven still blisters the roofs of our mouths and double rainbows will still take our breath.

I like the metaphor of Life as an amusement park.

The Great Pyramid

I have this image in my head of ...spiritual awareness?  as a kind of pyramid.  Except sometimes I have to invert it.  Because the steps need to get bigger as you go up.  Because when we are children, our world view is smaller and as we become more adult, it gets larger.  Broader.

 Some people walk around on the same step (This is why it's an AZTEC pyramid.  I need the steps.  Has nothing to do with sacrifice.  Really.) all their lives. You know the ones, christened and buried in the same church.  Or (name your flavor).

Some people wander up and down the steps, looking for something that lets them see more of the Truth.

Some are so busy looking at their own step(s) that they never notice there are other steps.  Plod, plod, plod, wearing a groove in the stone.

And sometimes, someone turns around and sees Everything, not just the stone steps.

And sometimes i/we/you fall off.

The tricky part then, is deciding whether you're falling or flying.

Tilt-A-Whirl

Metaphor

Near the end of A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle, Mrs Whatsit tries to explain Free Will to Calvin and Meg.

She says (and I am editing for clarity) "In your language you have a form of poetry called a sonnet...It is a very strict form of poetry...There are fourteen lines, I believe, all in iambic pentameter. That's a very strict rhythm or metre...And each line has to end with a rigid rhyme pattern. And if the poet does not do it exactly this way, it is not a sonnet...But within this strict form the poet has complete freedom to say whatever he wants..."

"You're given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself."

I don't know that I agree that an entire Life is a Sonnet, but I do find many components of my life are sonnet-like.

Tango is one bit. There are certain ways to do the steps, but you can dance any pattern you like. There is something of a sonnet in my labyrinth walking habit.

There are other things, but they aren't coming to mind right now.