I was surprised to see the daily ritual of indecisiveness spoke in the terms of a physicist in a very special documentary I watched between the hours of 4am and 6am last night.
Quite simply, the bad habits are constructed from experience on the level of the ego. The dreams and wishes also contained on such a level do not manifest if the intent is solely held within local consciousness because of its narrow set or resources. Non-local consciousness, and discontinuous thought is where reality is manifested, just as the vital, mental, and supramental are manifested possibilities of such non-local consciousness. Change therefore comes in the acceptance that materialism itself is a dead-end. There are too many paradoxes that erupt from it as a ground up source of reality; for instance the duality of the subtle and the shared experiences, the subjective and objective perspective that force an alienation and frustration in our ability to effect real change.
I'm likely butchering this. The documentary is called the Quantum Activist. It follows a path of a renowned thinker who's name I must learn to recall properly. He is Indian, self-aware, vastly intelligent and a professor now who is doing absolutely what is needed to be done; he is explaining our shared responsibility to each other and our planet. He is showing scientific reasoning that supports our effect upon our reality and the nature of God. The conversation is a requisite for those who feel stuck.
I've been struggling with what should be a mild challenge. I must write a number of essays for class. However each paragraph has been a grueling experience. My willpower is locked up in ways I can't explain. And for all the reasoning behind the necessity of this act, my emotional self is abstaining from commitment. It is peculiar this form of rebellion. It is completely self-destructive. I even like the class I have (19th century novel). I've had the great benefit of being introduced to Dickens, Pearce, Austen and more. The stories are ripe for analysis. And yet in the great mess of appreciation I found myself without the map to wade through to the execution of a proper response. All I have felt is doubt and wonder. I fear this weekend is all I have. I am very close to fulfilling the requirement for my creative writing degree but if I fail this class, not only is that money wasted but possibly a threat to loan qualification that will go to finishing film school. I cannot to have my GPA fall by any great degree.
The relationship suggested in the Quantum Activist was an alternating one where an individual affects local and non-local consciousness in tandem - where action is supplemented by presence of being. The incubation period that follows familiarity of a subject is an important part of eventually harnessing the subject for one own purpose. The focus upon activity, being goal oriented is a natural urgency for us, but greater challenges require discontinuous leaps in thought to provide the perspective enhancing suitability and capability. We have to go out of our minds a little to adapt to new challenges. Specifically this non-local consciousness is the one where we resonate with the cosmic. It is there the possibilities are chose and the manifestation occurs for us to perceive.
By restating the nutshell of what I have come to appreciate in this documentary I hope to have internalized it in such a way that will aid me in my immediate commitments and become a greater aid to myself and those I care about in the future.
Find the story. Bring it back. That is our mission.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
A Mountaineer Once Told Me "Just 50 Words a Day . . ."
This was when I worked at a gym as a personal trainer. I was perhaps initially too shy for the gig but was just about to hit quota when I was fired officially for being non-productive and unofficially for not filling out paper work on time and being tardy. It's one of the few positions in life that I compare to others and realize what a great opportunity it was to work with people.
Working with people can often be a mixed bag. But for this entry I'll say that it eventually becomes clear that it is all we were meant for. Even the loneliest or most isolated job is something that others rely upon. We are meant to affect each other's lives and I've come to appreciate the chance inspirations that happens when other's see a chance potential in me.
"50 words a day," he said. "It doesn't matter what it is. Stream of consciousness, poetry, prose. Just write it and you will find after a month or two or three, when you go back and read it over, that all your themes, characters, motivations, revelations are all there." In essence, writing a book can't be hard if you are simply doing it. It's the actual doing that is paramount.
For a while my great endeavor was just to be up early, but I'd get up and wonder what to accomplish first and usually be lost in the mire. Video games, going back to sleep, or investing time in some other distraction was the easies way to approach that limbo of time that I gathered for myself without an action I could commend to it. By writing early, I can reassert my claim on the process and my future. I can begin to accomplish the dream by instituting a new habit during a time where idleness would have its way.
What's odd is how a truth can exist with you for years but until you state it, record it, accept it, promise it to yourself, see its connection with everything you are, you may let it go. It's similar to how I've dealt with voting in the past. It's a responsibility to place upon yourself and it's one aimed at declaring yourself continually into the presence and future simultaneously. It is also one equally dismissed by an off-track perspective, left to be accomplished "later." Tomorrow does not technically exist as a thing we can confirm upon.
There is no easy or simple way to live well. You are either true with yourself and vigilant to observe that truth and respond to it, or you become a house of chaos. I have an inkling that 50 words a day may be all I need to light the way.
Working with people can often be a mixed bag. But for this entry I'll say that it eventually becomes clear that it is all we were meant for. Even the loneliest or most isolated job is something that others rely upon. We are meant to affect each other's lives and I've come to appreciate the chance inspirations that happens when other's see a chance potential in me.
"50 words a day," he said. "It doesn't matter what it is. Stream of consciousness, poetry, prose. Just write it and you will find after a month or two or three, when you go back and read it over, that all your themes, characters, motivations, revelations are all there." In essence, writing a book can't be hard if you are simply doing it. It's the actual doing that is paramount.
For a while my great endeavor was just to be up early, but I'd get up and wonder what to accomplish first and usually be lost in the mire. Video games, going back to sleep, or investing time in some other distraction was the easies way to approach that limbo of time that I gathered for myself without an action I could commend to it. By writing early, I can reassert my claim on the process and my future. I can begin to accomplish the dream by instituting a new habit during a time where idleness would have its way.
What's odd is how a truth can exist with you for years but until you state it, record it, accept it, promise it to yourself, see its connection with everything you are, you may let it go. It's similar to how I've dealt with voting in the past. It's a responsibility to place upon yourself and it's one aimed at declaring yourself continually into the presence and future simultaneously. It is also one equally dismissed by an off-track perspective, left to be accomplished "later." Tomorrow does not technically exist as a thing we can confirm upon.
There is no easy or simple way to live well. You are either true with yourself and vigilant to observe that truth and respond to it, or you become a house of chaos. I have an inkling that 50 words a day may be all I need to light the way.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Almost always from the top . . . with feeling
Half-starts; seems to be the way with things. With me. I can perceive a momentum but cannot note a measure of its force. I'm constantly reminded of a dwindling landscape, a shortening potential, and the huge opportunities afforded in the moments regardless. It can be overwhelming to juggle the causes for life with living itself. All romance can do is amplify despondence as the will rises to take its place.
I'm talking of course about what is so easy to talk about and do little else. Destiny. The more steps I take the more risks I must be willing to accept. It may indicate a clue that I am on the path I need to be on. I've had several epiphanies though I cannot remember them all in order:
1) The hero grows weak when the villain does not avail itself. Conviction is grown from adversity. So if the adversity is subtle or seemingly absent, we should understand that as an opportunity to flourish, instead of becoming complacent and tragic.
2) In the end, there is no greater purpose in the pursuit of completeness than myself (this may seem simply ego-centric, but when the passions cannot be summoned for the external and fickle entities we are relationed to, we must ask the questions if we are enough in the end, or will the outward lack of inspiration be enough to damn us).
3)I sleep best when I take forward steps.
Developing a relationship with the self, which means learning to keep promises to the self is the first step in dealing with the world. You must have your own confidence before others can follow your lead, let alone trust you. You must know yourself as if from the outside as well as from the innermost core. I have no more lies, just adamant failures to comply, but I'd like to think my eyes are open.
The world might end if not for the hope we can carry to such a magnitude within our singular forms. Together, dreams weave together and can knit the universe in patterns not yet intended by what greater consciousness that saw to the timing of our creation. It's good to believe in something, better to let it move you if that movement is meant to build or repair. I suppose what I'm reaffirming for myself is the responsibility we have here.
I thought I would write here about being American, but the closest I can come to is acknowledging what meaning I seek in a country that is so abundant and corrupted. There is little we need to do now save dream and create - the means of survival requiring less and less, or more and more of our spirit than our instinct to survive.
I would read on political and environmental issues, would find ways to teach and commit myself to great endeavors but I am half-cooked, not yet ripe. I am still master of nothing and so can be depended on for little. I'm scared of this lack of definition and once more rally to work at reversing this condition here and everywhere.
I'm talking of course about what is so easy to talk about and do little else. Destiny. The more steps I take the more risks I must be willing to accept. It may indicate a clue that I am on the path I need to be on. I've had several epiphanies though I cannot remember them all in order:
1) The hero grows weak when the villain does not avail itself. Conviction is grown from adversity. So if the adversity is subtle or seemingly absent, we should understand that as an opportunity to flourish, instead of becoming complacent and tragic.
2) In the end, there is no greater purpose in the pursuit of completeness than myself (this may seem simply ego-centric, but when the passions cannot be summoned for the external and fickle entities we are relationed to, we must ask the questions if we are enough in the end, or will the outward lack of inspiration be enough to damn us).
3)I sleep best when I take forward steps.
Developing a relationship with the self, which means learning to keep promises to the self is the first step in dealing with the world. You must have your own confidence before others can follow your lead, let alone trust you. You must know yourself as if from the outside as well as from the innermost core. I have no more lies, just adamant failures to comply, but I'd like to think my eyes are open.
The world might end if not for the hope we can carry to such a magnitude within our singular forms. Together, dreams weave together and can knit the universe in patterns not yet intended by what greater consciousness that saw to the timing of our creation. It's good to believe in something, better to let it move you if that movement is meant to build or repair. I suppose what I'm reaffirming for myself is the responsibility we have here.
I thought I would write here about being American, but the closest I can come to is acknowledging what meaning I seek in a country that is so abundant and corrupted. There is little we need to do now save dream and create - the means of survival requiring less and less, or more and more of our spirit than our instinct to survive.
I would read on political and environmental issues, would find ways to teach and commit myself to great endeavors but I am half-cooked, not yet ripe. I am still master of nothing and so can be depended on for little. I'm scared of this lack of definition and once more rally to work at reversing this condition here and everywhere.
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