We spend time online differently. Some immerse themselves in the political, others random entertainment, others life tips and self improvement, shopping or food porn, celebrity news, stalking, nostalgia, social signaling, special interests, causes and often a mixture of them all.
It’s addictive. The rotating smorgasbord of information kicks our amygdalas into overdrive. The amygdala’s role was/is to keep scanning… for threats, opportunities, looking for differences and what wasn’t there before. Newness. It’s hardwired. It juices our limbic systems.
The skittish survive and pass on their genes. Doesn’t matter they drop dead after procreating from stress related disorders, they served their purpose in propagating our species. That’s how nature works. You’re welcome.
But it can also be leveraged by our nascent executive function, perhaps more to our advantage. The same addictiveness can be attached to a stream of learning and deepening of what is relevant to us. That nourishes us rather than merely distracts and numbs. We can tap incredibly rich veins in a matrix of information, we can feed our souls and spirits rather than our biases, ego and instincts. And subvert the systems of nature and commerce to our soul advantage
When we close our eyes we can access vistas within as vivid in appearance and deep in significance as any in the physical world but for most, this ability has atrophied and they are only aware it still exists through dreams or psychedelics
Curiously our physical senses stream into our minds creating holograms assembled from electrical impulses and chemical undulations between neurons interpreting the outside world like a movie
and yet, activating these same assemblies and scenes requires no external input it is an interface not a recording
A way to recover the ability to access our own projections is to dehabituate the way we gaze because even with eyes closed we are peering into darkness with the same subtle muscle habits in our eyes that we use to lock onto the physical
to release this lock-down and decouple it from the physical interface we need to explore new ways of scanning for content first, by relaxing the eyes allowing them to defocus and soften an open field of awareness which instantly triggers alpha unbinding the filter mechanism
and then through a metaphorical opening that might be, and probably will be, a very different venue of access and presentation, almost a knowing or feeling, which will first be very vague but as we learn to focus these internal lenses our experience can be as vivid and real, if not more so, than anything we imagine we are seeing outside our heads
Secret Sauce
Use Intention. Because there are parts of our mind that respond to our intentions, if we know how to craft them and/or if the timing is right, or we are in the right state of mind, like say, alpha. So form an intention to see into the non-physical. And perhaps an affirmation that you believe there is more to perceive than the physical world and more to awareness than some knot in our heads.
A Question is sometimes a sneaky way to form an intention that bypasses our censors. What would we see or perceive if we were becoming aware of what’s happening right now inside our mind? And if we realized we could experience a source and form of sensation that was new to us? What if it was all in our head, but our mind is actually far larger than we think?
Use the liminal space between waking and sleeping: both falling to sleep and waking up. We often pass through these zones briefly, but hanging out on the edge of sleep, coming or going, is a rich territory to explore and unfold this new ability. Also before and after naps, and during short, 5 minute breaks from the screen or activities. Or whenever we close our eyes to check in and find an energized fabric with which to play.
It’s past witching hour by far In vino veritas (y tambien, la vida no es tan seria como la mente hace que parezca)
enjoy life -but live it(!) don’t settle which means ~obtain your magic claim your mojo you die alone make some choices that only you are accountable for
escape a few beliefs and a little indoctrination free the mind a bit and spirit more you know those feelings …your memory can reach that far back to what you’ve lost touch with-in
in all the scurry come back to the body it’s not just a temple it’s a playground of sensation, energies pathways and forces a nexus of power
ride these sensations into presence only the body is always here and now while the mind can spin endlessly in neither anchor self in the earth and reach the stars or not a thousand games a thousand gems
Protect yourself and grow upright to the sky; that is all.
— Shunryu Suzuki
I drew kenaz this morning. A curious rune which typically means illumination, craft, skillful means. But its darker poems in history relate it also to ulcers and tumors. The reconciliation is found in a deeper function of kenaz which is shaping energy with thought. As such, it warns me today to be wary of whether I am shaping my thoughts with intention or whether my thoughts are shaping me, through moods and mechanical associations. One is a type of growth I do not wish to encourage.
I’m rethinking the whole “flow” bandwagon and construct.
I think it’s been appropriated by the performants.
That weird cult of meritocracy based entre-(pre)neural self-creators. Kind of like what they’ve done for mindfulness as a lubricant for better functioning business minds. Bleh.
Their “enablers” of flow state are: immersion in a task that’s challenging but not too challenging. This is a cargo cult byproduct of something deeper. That is: you wouldn’t need the artificial gravitas of a situational task to fix attention if your attention was not so fractured to begin with.
And to do mundane tasks, with full attention ala zen, has always been the gold standard of flow states. This immersion of the modern day flow junkies is not a being in the moment but a loss of a sense of time and self-awareness that sounds very similar to deep attachment. A zombie working state. Kind of the opposite of true mindfulness. And the “zone”, in high performance parlance, has been conflated with all of this in a sticky threesome.
How much time you figure before you will be playing your endgame?
Some of our relatives and friends are playing their endgames now. Some of us will play it suddenly with an unexpected diagnosis. Some will play it in a heartbeat in an accident.
For most this game is internal, though with some external signs.
For some it’s a strengthening of faith in something they believed, or wanted to believe, since they were a child and taught it was so. In the culture and belief they were raised in, usually.
For others it’s a realization of impermanence in a most personal way, and facing fear that those with faith in established answers deny: the fear of losing their very self. And that we may live on in someone’s memory, or through some legacy, is thin comfort. Because there will be no one to appreciate it. Yet it seems all materialism has to offer.
In others, more curious and more skeptical of accepting written records of long dead mapmakers, or the self-pity in losing an ego and material existence, the endgame is about trying to get a peek into the territory ahead. Trying to develop a few basic skills to navigate an unknown and practice through meditation what experiencing awareness can be without a self. And perhaps through dreams, magic and visions discover where paths enter the wilderness of the endgame and talk firsthand with beings there.
Three endgame strategies of no doubt many more. Yet I suspect it is a limited set of alternatives. What is your end game strategy?
outside, gray skies gray streets gray gradient dopplers of swooshing cars inside same gray excesses the night before leaving ashes where motivation should lie hate to leave on a gray wave or gray way how does one melt these pewter talismans down their leaden enchantments using a glowing splinter taken from the paw of a creature made of fire which owes me a debt as best I can remember
… a gray wave and gray day probably spawned from a haunting poem I learned in elementary school, though I don’t know from where. It went like this:
A green little chemist On a green little day Mixed some green little chemicals In a green little way. The green little grasses Now tenderly wave O’er the green little chemist’s Green little grave.
