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.
I’m ready to write! Oof, well… maybe not. (That’s what I wrote in my journal assuming I was going to talk about something, but then something else happened in my mind. So, I wrote what you see below.)
In a moment, just one, a fear shoots through my mind. Quick enough to feel, but not long enough to understand. So a question emerges. Where did that come from?
Maybe there is no source. The fear is simply there, and then it is not. No origin, and no end. Simply moving through my body, to my thoughts, translated into my words and recorded into my notebook. For me, it has a beginning and end, but maybe it itself does not function in such a way.
And it must be real. How could it not? It shapes my reality. It makes my reality. Is it… my reality?
Well, it has to be manifested by myself. If not the version of myself that I identify with, it is at least from my human. Same as when pain shoots up my nervous system as I stub my toe, a similar process must be true as fear travels through my brain. From its point of origin, the fear instantly travels outward and eventually goes through my thoughts, and only then does my ego process it.
And so can pain act the same as fear?
Think of it as a raindrop falling into lake water. Just one little drop into a body of trillions. Its ripple affects everything, but only the closest lake water notices. Only the lake water next to the fallen ball of water moves as a tiny little ripple emerges out and around the point of contact.
Drip.
And you would think that the lake would slowly fill. But it doesn’t. Instead, the muddy lake bottom from below absorbs its eldest drops. Moving lower and lower as new drops emerge, the ground consumes the old lake water into the Earth itself. For nothing is truly lost, only moved.
Drip. Drop.
My thoughts take the ripples and call them their own. But this is flawed. For when only a sliver of the water calls itself the lake, is to say a smartphone is merely a flashlight. A car is only a radio. And a house is only the kitchen.
So as my thoughts take in the fear, they assume they alone have felt, dealt and moved on from the sensation. Never questioning its origin, and never questioning how far its ripple reaches. They don’t notice the foot twitch as fear just as quickly brings shock throughout the body. They don’t see their own eyes widen ever so slightly for just an instant. And they don’t catch the sight of the man behind them fall back so insignificantly as his body reacts to the fear it just saw in another.
Drip. Drop. Splash.
Where does it come from? How far does it go? Is it my reality? And if so, where is my reality?
The three girls
Naturally giggling just as the leaves tend to rustle
They spot the love of their life
Of course never spoken, just felt
Just watch as he scribbles love letters for their wedding day
Oh how handsome
Oh how insightful
Oh how strong
Oh how
The mother with her young daughter
Naturally scared just as a dog hears thunder
She spots a predator
Of course never spoken, just felt
Just watch the way he looks at her, STOP LOOKING AT HER!
Oh how scary
Oh how wrong
Oh how gross
Oh how
The couple
Naturally laughing just as hyenas do without a know in the world
They spot a philosopher
Of course never spoken, just felt
Just watch him stare ahead until the trees around him bleed the truth of the universe
Oh how wise
Oh how intelligent
Oh how motivated
Oh how
And then I wonder, after they are all done looking at me
Did any of them spot a boy?
Just wanting to write
Just wanting to think
Just wanting to see
Oh how nice that would be
Because then more than just the daughter and I would have noticed the butterfly dancing around her head
“Let’s go on a walk”. Those were all the words needed to get his two young daughters to throw their boots and jackets on. With excitement never ceasing to exist with the unknown at twelve years old, the twins are thrilled to get outside of the house.
“Let’s go dad!”, they plead. Not wanting to leave them in anticipatory pain, he too throws his boots on and opens the front door. With a ten minute walk down the street, a left and a right, they find themselves at the trailhead they had walked a hundred times before, and there’s nothing wrong with a hundred and one times.
With tall pines and oaks becoming the new norm as they begin their ascent, the girls run circles around their father. Skipping from rock to rock on the path, climbing the trees they see fit and pointing out the vibrate array of differences lining the forest floor; had they been wearing fur, one would have surely mistaken them for the very squirrels they unintentionally scared away.
Experiencing no better word than joy, the girls came to a sudden stop as they noticed something next to the trail that they had never noticed before. Carved into a tree was a plastic heart. With what used to be a plastic water bottle, was reshaped and painted red to represent a heart. Stuck to the tree, the heart stayed there unwavering in its glory.
After some contemplation, the first girl says, “we need to get that bottle down and throw it away. It doesn’t belong there.”
The other girl disagrees, “It’s art dummy. Don’t you see it? It looks like a heart. Someone did this on purpose and it’s beautiful.”
Flustered, the first girl sends her rebuttal, “But just look at it, it’s litter. It’s harming the Earth. It’s only right for us to help fix what we destroy.”
“But then the art would be ruined”, the second girl protests. “All the beauty would never be seen again”.
Now with a chuckle that could lull a crying baby to ease, the father steps in saying, “You are both right and you are both wrong. The plastic surely is a human-made product. One that will not serve this beautiful land much good. And it may even harm the little critters that roam this Earth as well. Who knows if one of them will try to eat it and choke.”
“So, let’s throw it away”, the first girl declares.
“Well don’t be so quick”, the father continues. “This heart surely is beautiful to the human eye. You never know how far beauty can stretch with helping and perfecting this world. Someone may need this heart soon. They may need some symbol, some self-manifested reason to be. And this could be that very thing that brings someone’s darkest hour into their most directional.”
“But it’s not supposed to be there Dad.” Unswayed, the first girl doesn’t like where she thinks her father is headed.
“It’s not?”, the father asks rhetorically. “Well, are we supposed to be? Look at your feet as they stump and distort the very ground beneath them. Notice the branches you have bent and broken as you enjoyed climbing those trees. And have you heard the silence without our voices? It would appear that the animals of this land are too afraid to play in their own home as you invited yourself over. So should we never disturb nature again then, since we too do not belong? And please never forget that the only reason there is something as an other when compared to nature is that humans have manifested that very other. So excluding the alternative options of land and beauty that humans have claimed as their own, where would you prefer we go?”
Confused, as any twelve-year-old would be, the daughter shrugged her shoulders.
“But don’t worry my darling, I’m not saying that we won’t throw it away,” the father explained.
“What? Why?”, now the second daughter was confused.
“Well as I said, the animals could choke on this plastic after we leave. It won’t decompose for hundreds of years, there is no telling what damage this plastic could do to the environment it is currently within.”
“But you said it yourself, dad. This could help someone’s day. Who knows, within hundreds of years there has got to be at least one person who it cheers up. Maybe it keeps them from ending their life. Or maybe it inspires them into becoming an environmentalist. It can do so much good by staying there.” The second daughter is pleased with her argument.
“This is all very true. As I said, you are both right, but also both wrong. There is no way of knowing the future and your beliefs are both logical and inspiring.” The father says so with subtle pride radiating from within.
“So what should we do then?” the first girl asks.
“Maybe it’s not up to us,” the second girl suggests. “Maybe this is up to fate and we should leave it for something else to decide”.
“Fate, such an interesting idea. Are we not a part of fate?”
Creating a confused look on both the daughter’s faces, the father is encouraged to continue.
“By taking no action, is itself an action. We, like everything around us, are a part of this universe. We are created by it, and then reflexively we create it as well. Therefore, our actions are a part of fate as much as the wind that may blow just hard enough in two days to knock this heart to the ground. Or as much as the squirrel that may decide to see what this lovely bright red treat has instore for it. Or even as much as the next person who stumbles upon this same situation and is faced with the very same two choices. You see, fate is not something that happens to us, rather something we are a part of. And so to leave this heart alone by the will of fate is the same as taking the heart down due to our biased preferences on what is best. In short, we are fate.”
Completely lost on what the right thing to do is, the daughters ask, “So does it not even matter then? Is any decision pointless?”
“Oh no, not at all”, said with a flash of concern for just a moment. “So many people stop at that point of thinking and damn themselves to their own hell. They will stop their train of thought there and make their reality indefinitely depressing and call it objective. If there is one thing I would wish above anything else is that you two never stop there and instead keep thinking because you’re truly only one step away from seeing it for how it is, not how you may want it to be.”
“So what is it then?” the first girl asks.
“Yeah, what’s the point then. Please tell us,” the second girl says.
With a smile, the father explains his final point, “You are this universe. Both of you, and so I am, and everything else for that matter. Everything is a part of this reality and everything is doing as it does. This tree has grown to such size and strength because that is how it does. The artist put this heart here because that is his calling. And we are talking about this right now because that is how we perfectly are in this moment. Everything is how it is with no more a duty to its role than anything else. To stress over this is to forget the most important part, we are all equally factored into this reality. And so we are all equally driven and succeed to do as we intend. And you my loves can do as you will and if you see as I do one day you will see that you can will to be whatever you would like because you are this process. If you understand my words now, that is amazing. But it’s okay if you do not. I hope one day you do and then we will talk and it will surely be beautiful. So to answer your question of what’s the point in deciding and acting how we do, well the question is framed wrong. There is no other point needed to do and be as you do. You are how you are every moment with no dependent moment relying on the other. And so please be and enjoy the amazingness of it. Be amazed by your connectedness with everything, find your calling, and understand the perfectness of it all. There is no point in the way you frame the question, but the point is infinite once you take your lenses off and see the perfection that surrounds you.”
With a nervous smile, the girls stood there just as confused as they were before… actually more confused now. They couldn’t understand their father’s words, but they felt them. They felt his love and they knew one day they would look back at this day and it will make sense. And never would they be pressured by any force but love to understand that unknown world he speaks of being so close.
“So, what shall we do about that heart?” And a burst of uncontrollable laughter was sent through his buddy because the whole thing is just too perfect to not feel in full.
Starting next Sunday, on March 15th, I will begin a new phase for the blog. From that point on, I will be posting every Sunday and Wednesday for the next couple of months. Attempting to keep the shorter posts on Wednesday, those will usually be poems. Whereas on Sunday, I will typically be publishing full-size posts.
I truly do not have a clear idea of what and where this shift is moving towards, but it will certainly be addressing topics and ways of presenting those topics in a fashion I have not directly attempted before. So, for lack of better words, this new topic will address mindfulness and ways of perceiving ourselves and reality both as it is and how we see it.
Using a mix of different forms of creative writing, I will loosely circulate around ideas that have been bouncing around in my head for some time now. And to be honest, these ideas are so difficult to express for me, that I’m sure only a few of these future posts will make sense on the first read. Or maybe even the second or third. Therefore, I encourage you to bear with me as this odd transformation of my thoughts unfolds here on the website.
I also encourage you to engage with any questions or comments you may have. These topics will not be straight forward and will usually take base assumptions separate from the ones we commonly perceive as unmovable. So, please do not hesitate to reach out to me and I will make sure to answer and discuss anything you feel like talking about.
And lastly, I hope you enjoy this transition. It’s been quite a wonderful change recently in how I see the world. And nothing would make me happier if I could share that transition with anyone willing to consider it.
Oh, and of course I’m not saying that I have found the ultimate answers. I’m sure a lot of what I am saying can be disputed and is possibly completely wrong (to be in fact some of the very posts I will be putting on the site are wrong. Regardless, I will post them as a segway into, what I believe to be, the correct mindset). So please let me know if you disagree and I’ll try to consider the alternative idea best I can.
Here are a few of my favorites that I have already published:
