There is a story I would like to tell, and there is a personal audience for it, so they say, but I am is was there, and what happened can only be conveyed by a competent vocationist (a called person) rather then the instigator of the response to the event. The instigation was passive. There is literally nothing to say because of a deliberately arranged lack of perspective. In my subjective view I did nothing, and the audience and witnesses provided all the incentive or inspiration necessary to do what they did. My lack of participation was inspired itself, because nothingness is extremely difficult to mimick, and unfortunately necessary for making a conscious return to the cosmic soup to fetch the possibles you left it for to accomplish being as a stranger in a strange land.
If you happen to encounter a homo sapiens devoid of all the attributes you normally take for granted you might be astonished if you self-observe in that moment. You might be dumbfounded at how you might react to such a meeting. I've watched myself reach for every assuring posture I've ever explored in any dimension or realm to help me adjust to my flabbergasted state of being, in order to do the right thing as resolutely as I could. When I consider my own reactions in this sort of divine intervention, every single time there have been slim pickings among the possible solutions that popped up to save the day. Which indicates to me there's some truth in the claim that homo sapiens can't know their own abstract possibles in real time.
I don't think humans are much different than bats when it comes to feeling our way around in the dark. We constantly send out a bunch of tacit, weak signals and base our behavior on their return. As if what bats do and what humans do is similar to how RADAR works.
So what do you suppose happens when you're out there ditty-bopping around the streets and countryside doing yo' thang, and you enter a dead signal zone (I don't own a cellphone, so I just have to guess if that's an equivalency). Examine your thoughts. Contemplate your life. When has this ever happened before, and how did you react to nothingness then?
I'm not writing about something complicated, but maybe it's a little like walking into a room where you notice someone kneeling down or bowed over, and appear to be sincerely praying, such that their entire attention seems to be engaged in their efforts to establish communication with whatever god they pray to. Were you alone when that happened? Did you tiptoe away to show respect for what you might expect of them, or screech and point derisively at what might seem foolish behavior for you?
A star athlete is serving or putting for the championship. Chatter, chatter, chatter about the possibilities, and then, just before the decisive moment, absolute silence suddenly develops in order for the fans to share the emptiness of distracting thoughts the athlete needs to invoke to give themselves their best shot.
Does it seem like to you that people have to deliberately empty their psyche of abstract thoughts to accomplish such a desired end to basically any serious endeavor? Sort of like attempting to make the perfect shot at the last second to win the game? Can this moment be shared by millions of spectators all over the world via the media in some humongous instantaneity?
instantaneity
ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from medieval Latin instantaneus, from Latin instant- ‘being at hand’ (from the verb instare), on the pattern of ecclesiastical Latin momentaneus.
Is a moment like this the epitome of being or nothingness? Sartre asserts that "negation can never be derived from being." Being can't ex-is-t without a ground nor a ground for being without nothingness. Being be-co-me-s nothingness to escape the plenitude into individuation, but it can't remember it's own possibles in that state of being due to the denial and negation it uses as a tool to upsurge into being. All the possibles that tempted it into being-for-itself are necessarily left behind in the plentitude behind the closed doors of nothingness. That's why Being is a second-hand state that depends on nothingness to provide it with a leg (ground) to stand on. But, that sa-me nothingness prevents it from acting from the deep certainty of irrefutable gnosis. Nothingness IS the tie-that-binds (time) our hearts together in equality before the Law.
The plenitude or fullness thereof, the id, the cosmic soup are metaphors or allegories representing the specious present, the eternal now of which it can only be said, "It is.". It's only from this infinite maelstrom of undifferentiated, almost unstoppable activity that anything can happen at all, and yet whatever does happen must happen in and of itself despite nagging temptations to invoke fate with hat-in-hand, like whistling one's way past the cemetery on moonless nights.
I make this crap up in the spur of the moment to entertain myself. I can't afford professional entertainers to do it for me. It's just something to say. Something to whistle on dark nights. "Eine kleine Nachtmusik." I wouldn't know the truth if it bit me on the ass. '-)
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
