This section will be tackling my disjointed ideas and mindsets on my knowledge of mindfulness. Focusing on discussing these many topics through the use of creative writing and analogies, I will attempt to have these experiences felt mutually between reader and writer. Being my proudest work thus far, I hope you enjoy.
Do you know what truth is? It’s sight through the ears that smells the hands of your taste buds. It’s knowledge without the books of riddles or the prophecies of heroes.
Truth is right there… I bet you don’t see it.
Bleed my boy and you shall see. Let the rivers run and you shall feel. Nothing is the same to you, and nothing is different.
You want truth? You must first ask why. Why do you want to know what you do not already? You can know anything, so why beg for the one thing you may never have.
You obsess with the unknown. You feel you can make it known but I assure you this will be fruitless. All you have is what you create. If you must pull something truthful into your creation, then it will inherently be stretched too thin to hold.
Cloud your skies and it will eventually rain. Take my arm son, its time to run. Run as fast as you can. They will catch you but maybe you can last just long enough.
Summit the mountain just in time and the sun shall shine. You climb through the clouds you see. You see they are not so tough. An illusion of a wall. Climb up and up until they are too far. It is you who must go far, not the truth. You have to travel to it and only where it resides shall your eyes gaze upon the thing you desire most.
And will it be worth it? Of course. Only a fool would hesitate before answering. Haha, and you are a fool! Why do you wait?! Why do you stall?! JUST GO!
They are coming and the clouds shall rain. So, wait and play the fool if you like, but never put the blame far from your own.
“Fly Clark! Just do it! Go ahead, you can do it. Just fly!”
Have you ever wondered what it would take to get Superman to fly? How could you convince a normal guy to take flight? To talk some dude working a regular nine to five into soaring above the clouds, just as the birds do, without a wing or any sort of logical reference to your claim.
“You just got to trust me Clark! You’re Superman! You can fly!”
Trust. I suppose that could work if he really trusts you. But how much trust does it take to jump off a building with not a plan but magic?
And you surely can’t show him. He’s Superman, you’re not. He can fly, you can’t. So… there’s no teaching involved. You can try to show him how you would do it, but you can’t fly for him. You can show him the path you would take but he is the one taking flight.
“Clark! I’ll kill you if you don’t fly” (Dark, I know, but bear with me).
Well, that could work… but as I said, he’s Superman. There’s no killing Superman. The thousands of comic books and an endless list of powers made sure of that much.
“Fine! I’ll hurt your mother if you don’t fly!” (Look at that, I said hurt, much nicer).
Now we’re talking. He could still probably disarm you and whatnot, but let’s assume he can’t. Or more that he doesn’t think he can, so he doesn’t try.
Okay, knife in hand, pointed at his mom, you tell him he has one minute to fly. Of course you’re lying because you would never hurt such a person, but once again, he doesn’t know.
Looking over the rooftop, Superman looks at you one last time with fear in his eyes. You tell him to jump, he looks at his mom, has a moment of courageousness, looks to the sky, and jumps.
Do you want to know what happens next? Well, the obvious happens, he falls. He falls, and falls, and falls. Hitting the ground at terminal velocity, any mortal would have pancaked to pieces, but not Superman. Instead, he shakes it off, climbs the stairs back up pissed off as all hell and throws you off the rooftop.
“Let’s see you fly!!”
Just because we can all do the unimaginable, doesn’t mean we won’t fail when we first try.
Sometimes I like the idea of you. Dancing around in my head, like our problems were never there. It’s nice to see you smiling. It’s nice to hold you tight.
Sometimes I remember how you were. “So perfect”, I say. But I don’t know. Let’s face it, you weren’t, and neither was I.
We fought. Can I remember the times you yelled in my ear? It hurt. So I hurt back. You see, I ran. I always did. Yet, I love you. Yet, I miss you. Yet, I need you.
Oh love. I don’t know why, but I love you. I think regret holds me back. Regret for what I could have done. For who I could have been.
You see, I hate myself for what I made us. Yet, I’d do it again. We aren’t meant to be. I want more, and you want less.
You see my love, we will never be each other’s other again. But I will still love you. I love you, every day. I wait, every day. Never too far, and always too close.
You live in me. You eat me. And I only pretend to complain.
One day I’ll let you go. But not today. Today, I still love you most.
Hm… maybe because when you are everything the only thing you can gain is to be something. What do you think?
Possibly. Or because nothingness has to take some kind of form.
Why must it?
I can’t conceptualize it fully. It’s a paradox: nothing is something. Okay, take this idea: most of an object is empty space but it’s too small to observe (the photons hitting our eyes are processed into a blurred image of reality). But that empty space isn’t nothing. There’s something there. We just have no idea what it is.
I understand what you mean in that vain. I suppose I’m hitting a different idea then. In your case I would agree by saying that there is no such thing as nothing since even the idea of nothing is within the reality of something. As you put it, “nothing is something”.
Okay, so in what way were you saying then?
I was trying to point out that an infinite thing can’t take a form. To take anything as something is to allow for an imperfection because to be something is not something else. Any characteristic of any sort will result in it not having some other characteristic making the once anything, or everything, into something. As an infinite thing in all ways, the only way it can gain anything is by making or becoming something.
Yet, I think everything is the same. It’s just the form it takes. So, something is something else just in another form. The infinite thing doesn’t take a form it gives form.
It gives form, yes, exactly. I agree that everything is the same because it is all something, but none of what we have seen is everything… at least I think. And here’s something interesting: we give form to everything as well. We are the god of our universe as we, from our own definitions of what is and is not, create everything that is the same into something. So, we are finite gods. Hm, I wonder if the Greeks weren’t as far off as we thought.
I’d disagree to even call something a finite god because we don’t even have control over ourselves. Our minds, our bodies, there’s so much we have little to no control over.
But even the lack of control is a manifestation from ourselves. We, as god, create this lack of control. To not have control over something is entirely created by the creator. Because you have to have defined something’s to take or give control. Let’s break down the process of “not having control”. I first conceptualize what a body and mind is (the things that I feel I must protect). I then define what takes away my control from them (for example, someone holding a knife to my throat). Following that, I define whether something is one of those things in the present moment. And finally, I think, feel and act accordingly. The only reason we don’t have complete control over this process is that the ego has disillusioned us from thinking these things just are, rather than our own creation. It’s really all about control and how you think you have compared to what you do have. And the ego does this because if we know we have total control then we can create our realities independent of the one that makes our finite bodies survive best.
I have no idea what the first big point means but I agree with the last two messages. It’s very easy to not realize what we’re capable of. How does the ego disillusion us from thinking we have control?
Elaborate before I answer. What exactly are you asking that the ego disillusions us from? What does it make us believe we control?
I suppose control is the real illusion. Objective reality will exist no matter what, it simply is. But the subjective reality can be very fragile and that’s where I believe we want control. But there’s no way to have control over objective reality. Confidence plays a role here, when things in the objective reality play out how we like it gives us confidence/a sense of control but it’s really an illusion.
Objective and subjective reality, how can the two be separate? Your subjective reality does determine your objective reality. And I would say it is yours. Like all that stuff on how someone looks prettier or worse as you learn their personality or as you grow scared the thing that you fear is larger from your point of view (something like that). Plus, what exactly is even being controlled? I would say our perception of things are the ones worth protecting. What are we protecting ourselves from? Things we see as things that can harm us. And so, the ego makes these things. It gives names and value to everything. Because that’s how we see, through value and label. Our ego creates our reality. And in truth we are creating it, it’s just that we follow the rules of the ego because that is all we know.
Hm, I guess the ego does construct it all.
I mean… I don’t know.
So why was the universe made then?
I guess how I see it is that the only way to gain anything as all infinite everything is to make something. To put finite limits on itself and therefore creating a new version of itself. And I guess the only fitting thing to do with these new finite parts are to let them play and see how they work. I guess to watch them unfold and find joy as they learn and grow.
Big head, small brain. The thoughts do not come without a composer to take their lead. Lead you shall. Lead you will. For in the mind of one is the will of them all.
God took their hand and made them one. As one, the young mistook it as two, but who would say this is wrong.
They felt abreast thoughts without anything more than the orchestra they are. Oh how it felt. Oh how it was.
For heaven can appear up high when that is the direction you’re told to look. Look below and you find the same, but same has nothing to blame.
Except you! Don’t you see my child, it is all you. A kin to what you know and must create. Allow feathers to flutter and you shall not fall. No matter the reason! Flight is all.
Now step back and see. Direction is one and god is none. You… are some.
It’s moments like these that death feels near
No
It is now
“Am I alone?”
I wonder
I always do
The world shakes
My eyes learn to cross
Focus is a demand for the gods
It’s like a curse
Crushing all that I say is okay,
begins to whither away
No, that’s not it
Shake
It shakes
My stomach prepares for the loop
And so,
Everything must get quiet
so quiet
so soft
so light
Run is the word my hands write
Run as fast as you can
But I never do
Go!
I do not joke
This world, oh this world
It kills you
It eats you
and spits out your parts
Left to function without the wheel
“Don’t worry over that chap”
“We can stire from here!”
But where are we going?
A question never answered
At least not directly
It’s all inside of me
All in here
and moving there
I don’t even really feel these words
Can you blame me?
CaN You!?!
That’s mad
So little I do with my words
In time young one
I want help
It’s too much to handle on my own,
so I don’t (… creepy crawly)
I’ve been hiding from myself
Strange,
It’s exactly what I have always wanted
Confused?
The ego has many parts
And I’m looking at one now
To think one is you,
and the other is not,
Is to say the foot is not the hand
(different they may be, but to the same master they bend)
Eat me.
How?
I’m doing it for you
There is no pain here unless you grab it
and SAY (and you must say)
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCHHa”
So very loud you scream
(did someone hear?
[the Politian never rests])
So many toxins are in my body
I’m hurt
Bleeding out
Someone help?
No point
Nobody would come to such a call
“I WANT PROOF”,
they demand.
but why is that so important?
“BECAUSE I’M NOT WASTING MY TIME ON SOMETHING NOT ESSENTIAL”
just, trust me
That’s all you must do
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
why?
“BECAUSE YOU’RE BIASED AND WRONG AND STUPID. And… GET AWAY!”
Yes, so true
But,
that is a story
This is a story
It’s all a story
You chuckle, but you don’t get it
Do I even?
Do I even know that this is a story?
Um… no?
It’s just not that simple
It’s a story within a story within a story within a story within...
My hands hurt, I’ll stop.
I guess that in itself is the example
Everything is infinite
But we operate finitely
So choose how close you want to get
but it’ll never matter
You’re always just as far
Why don’t you fly?
Go ahead
Just fly
I’m tired of this
I can’t get through to you
You just never listen
Why? Why don’t you get it? It’s simple
Pick a team
Pick one
And then, you’re done
Mortal or _____
Finite or _____
Some or _____
“I once thought I could fly, and only then did I learn how to fall”
That makes me smile. Is that wrong? I don’t know. I used to know. I used to have the answers. I used to have the path for others to take. But now, who do I expect to follow? How can they follow something that I, myself, can not even find?
I experience, and then look back as I record. And you know, it is already too late by then.
How fast we travel without the limits of our imagination.
Or maybe that’s wrong. Maybe it is us that crawls on our feet and hands as our imagination jumps and runs ahead.
I’d like to believe that we are more than what we are. And in truth, I do (… but isn’t that inherently wrong?)
I currently walk a path that shows me this way. Alone I must go. For it not be other’s fault, but instead my own. My damning and greed taking back its power as the mind feels it must.
You see, it pulls me from the path of light. Instead, I’m thrown back into my hell. Oh, my beautiful hell. I used to call it home. It was all that I knew, and so it was all that there was. And so I did as anyone does who wants to love where they live: I decorated.
I cooked. I cleaned. I invited guests, and they, in turn, invited me. I bought art and listened to music. I even painted the walls, but no shade of blue can fully light up the darkness those walls radiated.
I even made rules in this home. I put a limit on my joy. The neighbors don’t like it when I get loud. The walls would compress until I grew quite.
Once, and only once, I tested the walls without trying. They compressed, I grew louder. I did not win.
And so in this hell I live. Do you think you do? You probably don’t. And if you do then you probably just think that’s how it is. What is it that they call that again? Science? Rationalism? Objective? No matter the word, I’m sure you know yours.
And so you do as I mostly do. It is all that you know and so it is all there is. But do you remember when you could fly? I do.
Every day was a mystery. Plans were only hours in advance. And imagination was my best friend.
Haha, and that boy sure was dumb. He had no idea just what was out there in the world for him. But eventually, he did and he moved.
Step by step his stride went from a run to a crawl. Item by item his belongings went from the outdoors to his little hell. And moment by moment was wasted as he told himself to love his new home, forgetting of the rest of the world. But now I remember.
I WON’T be what I was. Because I hate this hell I made for myself! I will not crawl anymore! I’ve known how to fly, and now I know how to fall. So watch me soar as I do as I once always did!!!
There’s an emptiness in me,
Right now.
Right now,
my chest is hollowed out.
Right now,
despair sounds dramatic.
Right now,
a sphere of nothing has never been more consuming.
I spent a lot today,
you see.
So many nerves.
So much speed.
Why must I go so fast?
Why must relaxing feel equal to waste?
I want to cry.
Rarely I do.
Darkness fills me,
and I smile.
A hole is to be filled,
No matter the filling.
I tell myself this.
I tell myself a lot.
-----
Oh my love.
Oh my sweet.
I long for you.
Your gentle all.
Smile honey!
Take the picture.
It’s moments like these we long to keep.
To hold and own.
You want all that you need.
And then…
Wait,
I’ll try again.
AND THEN YOU WILL BE WHOLE!!!
Pound your chest,
Rhyme and all.
You are strong,
You say.
You are life,
You pray.
You are all,
Just for today.
Let your spirits run my love.
Let your voice be heard!
-----
She is mean.
Why is she mean?
Why does she hurt me? Why does she hurt? Why does she? Why?
No.
Why? Why do I? Why do I get hurt? Why do I get hurt by her?
No.
Why? Why do I? Why do I let her? Why do I let her hurt me?
No.
Why? Why do I? Why do I hurt? Why do I hurt her?
Why?
No matter what phase of life I have found myself in, this life analogy seems to hold true. I’m not saying this is true for everyone, surely it could be, but for certain I find it accurate for myself. Recently I even added to this analogy. I developed another layer of personal truth to this metaphor. So, here we go. Might as well share it:
Picture yourself in the middle of the ocean. Turning your head a full three-hundred and sixty degrees, you see nothing but the endless blue. There’s nothing special about your location; it is unknown. You’re simply treading water as the ocean moves around you.
The water is currently a lovely light blue as the sun beams its beautiful rays through the sky. A few clouds here and there, but for the most part, the sky is left empty for the vibrate shades of blue to fill in the rest. This day is a nice day. There are many nice days. And as you may have guessed, not all days are nice days.
Sometimes the ocean is hit with a storm. Pulling and tugging, you are sent left and right, up and down. As the waves grow larger, you feel smaller. You’re powerless, desperate for the wave’s mercy. At these times you may wonder if you will survive. If you will be lucky enough for the waves to give grace and let you free.
This is of course false. For no matter the wave, it is you who carries the strength to stay afloat. And although it appears to be the ocean that determines your survival, it is actually always yourself. It is how you pace yourself. You can kick harder, learn a better technique, or move your hands side to side faster, all allowing more of your body to be above water. All allowing bigger, steadier breathes. Let me tell you something, to take a deep breath after a long night can feel exhilarating. But it’s hard to maintain.
The more you move your body, the more tired you become. Although you are warm from the sun and breathing with ease, your muscles begin to ache. They start to scream out in agony. Although you may hate to admit it, you’re simply not strong enough. You know you need a break.
So you let yourself sink. Lowering your body until just your mouth is afloat. Taking slow breathes, your muscles relax. Depending on how tired you are, you may just sink all the way.
Taking a big breath right before your rest, you allow your entire body to sink as your muscles completely stop moving. Hovering just above the surface, this too, surprisingly, can feel like a lovely rush. Your muscles are at total peace. No movement, no pain, no need. And for a few seconds, it’s okay. But then you are faced with a decision.
Feeling your lungs convert the once beautiful oxygen into carbon dioxide, you desire another breath. You desire another gulp of fresh air. Sometimes you do, but other times you hesitate because you’re simply so sore and tired. Left with the ultimate decision, some never rise back up, and thankfully, most do.
There’s another part to this story that you may not know. Some hear of it and they laugh. Some consider it and they grow scared. Some do it and only then do they understand.
Although the ocean appears endless, it surely is not. It is vast and wide, but it has defined boundaries. It has edges that we call land. Where one doesn’t need to tread water to take a breath, they just simply breathe.
I can’t tell you the direction to swim, and only you can learn how to swim, but I can say it probably doesn’t matter. North is as good as South as long as you keep swimming North once you have begun. As long as you are not discouraged as others swim past you and tell you to turn around. They don’t know any more than you do. That’s okay. Because they will find their land if they keep going, and you will find yours.
Life is treading water in an ocean that has a mind of its own with goals external from your own. It does not own you, but it does affect you, and you must learn the difference. No matter what you hear, just remember, there is a path worth going other than down. You just have to believe it, even if you don’t see it. Because who knows, if you go far enough, you may just find a nirvana you can reach.
——-
I’m full right now. I am whole. And there’s so much left to do. So much left I could grow to. It’s only up if I want it to be. This brings a thought to mind. There’s even more to this analogy.
To continue life’s analogy there is a mountain to the land that you spent so long traveling to. At first, you think why climb it, but then you think why not. And so, you do.
Slowly, you play on the terrain you never knew existed. The sturdiness of the rocks, the sun’s warmth captured by the land, and the calmness of breath all come to your attention as you feel your complete control.
This mountain is tall, older than time, and you are small, younger than you believe. But it doesn’t feel this way as you get higher. The mountain doesn’t feel so different anymore. And although you don’t find another climber, you feel less alone.
This mountain for some is endless. Endless to them because their finite selves simply took too long. For others, it takes decades, or years. Maybe for a lucky few, it’s only months. But no matter who you are, it’ll take time… lots and lots of time.
Upon summiting this mountain, you see a view that dreams were never so creative to make.
The view is everything. Everything to exist is in front of you. Everything that is, is right there and of course, you smile. Because from up there everything is beautiful. Everything is perfect. And nothing is separate.
Sitting down on the mountain top, you cry, you laugh and then you see. Just seeing. You see until you can not any longer. Because your brain gets tired since a finite mind can only hold an infinite experience for so long.
With tired eyes, you thank yourself for treading water for so long. Because only then did you have the strength to swim. You thank your need to breathe because then did you desire land. And you thank your finite existence because that is as perfect as you need to know.
Your eyes close and you never move again. Are you dead? Well to you, yes. But to them, the one sitting on that mountain top seeing all, they died the moment they took their look upon all the perfectness. The body smiled atop the mountain, but the I at that point knew better than to say it had ever lived.
Slowly,
A baby can learn to walk
But before that,
They’ll learn to fall.
“First, you walk. Then, you run”
Nah
You just walk
That’s hard enough.
How does it feel?
To walk as your own?
To let your legs,
do the moving.
Hard ain’t it?
A lot easier to be carried
But it’s okay,
It’s worth it.
Cause like,
They don’t get it
You know?
The carriers?
The adults just move too fast
They carry you past everything!
“Stop!”
“Something shiny”
They just don’t seem to notice
It’s really shinny
Like really shinny
It’s just so cool!
I don’t care if you have a name for it
I don’t care if you’ve seen a hundred before
I don’t care if you know how it works
I just don’t care.
I want to feel it
I want to listen to it
I want to see it’s every detail
Don’t you?
So please just let me go
I’ll learn to walk
Well,
First I’ll learn to fall.
