my epiphany on the heart of writing is that writing is not about technique or knowledge it is about finding a why. about something bringing us alive that initiates adventure a calling, an agency —writing provides not discipline but a beautiful vice
so if motivation is a function of energy…as in, increasing energy increases motivation. then what is a function of energy? some claim it is purpose.
which implies that, to the degree we discover, create and follow our purpose so follows the gradient of our energy supporting our passion
a bead of contemplation i reflected with a bit this evening
“We assume death to be the worst thing that could possible happen to any person. How very wrong this idea is. … Death is a natural step.” -Einstein God Model
Loving god is not about loving a god that needs adoration that’s an eisegetic plot it’s rather loving creation and the act of creation, the beauty, the fragility, the temporality, in all its manifestations it’s a reverence of being present in mystery, accepting things as they are it’s about coming alive to what can be experienced to the flowering, creeping, crawling, jumping, dancing, verbing, snaking into this existence to rhythms we hear meant for us it’s being comfortable in our skins that’s what loving god is all about to me
Sirenas, abre la puerta!
Heidegger was a weird philosopher. Deep, incomprehensible insights that he tried to scribble onto a map of words about territory that, at best, are hermetic hieroglyphics; challenging to decipher. But I think I grok the guy
And if it’s true that the fabric of our being is interlaced with the hologram, in our own private Idaho dancing with the cosmos. Then human being truly is a verb, there is no soul other than the dance, and the path of the magician is the full embrace of illusion and its utility
It’s been liberating. In ways I was unaware, my attention was being hijacked by social media. Even sparse interactions left fragments of attention circling for followups in background processes. Scrolling rolls of micro informational transactions swirling swamps of temporary relevance. The sprawl of activity, opinions, offense, urgencies and noise, even while passively perusing without engagement seems to have taken toll. Because now it feels, by fasting days from social media for roughly 48 hour intervals, my attention has more agency. I look for things I want to explore and I’m not dancing with dopamine or being constantly nudged by the continual forment, memetic arbitrage and identity politics that passes for pulp discourse these days.
Spanish teacher brought her mother to class tonight from Mexico city. Class got to practice by asking her questions. Mexico city is evidently built on the catacombs of old Aztecan canals used to ferry food from the farms. And on top of Aztec temples are Spanish churches. And as the canals have been drained of water, the city of Mexico is now sinking. And to not believe all the media hype and fake news about crime and cartels, Mexico is beautiful, friendly and happy. And her favorite food is spanish rice, and what she does for fun is chop vegetables.
Afterwards, I broke the fasting routine and went to the pub for beer and some chicken wings. Now I’m re-watching Avengers Infinity War to get ready for End Game tomorrow night. Also got a multiplayer Stratego game installed from Steam. Some Europeans take this game seriously, like South Korea and Starcraft, so will be fun to try the rankings board.
“Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk.” -Jane Kenyon
There’s a lot of noise right now diffusing meaning and impact of weighted terms like race and taking offense. Their semantic markers are blurring, unmoored intentionally from cultural consensus by political crisprs.
I think everybody has a right to be personally offended by whatever they choose and a symmetrical right not to care what offends others. As long as it’s not endangering anything but pride, so what? Bite me.
But if a behavior encourages or endorses hate crimes against others then it becomes morally offensive, and we’re better than that … and there is no equivocation.
Finished with Stranger Things, Season 3. Beautiful ending. Restores my faith in american dreamtime… my theory is that movies and film are the american equivalent of the aboriginal dreamtime. Which happens on another plane. According to them, this conscious playground is just a toddler’s growing up phase to enter dreamtime, where the real stuff is happening.
While I believe western dreamtime is an invitation to the underworld. Playing with the fabric of maya. Different approach perhaps to a common end
I judge others more than I would like, and myself through others’ eyes. I slip and take things personally. Sometimes I feel powerless. I feel weakness, dullness, strength, levity, stillness, contentment
I meditate twice daily to learn letting my feelings go, thoughts go. Not to avoid them, not to hang on to them. They are ephemeral anyway.
One of my deepest fears is that I have squandered my time and opportunity with my anxieties, self-consciousness and failure to break through conditioning and habit