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The temperature dropped down to below freezing last night. I covered the one tomato plant I still have out in the open on my second-floor deck with an old blanket. I'm not sure it did that much good. I should try to move it over to my brother's green house, But, the ceramic pot is too much for me to handle in my present physical condition.
Its not all that apparent to me what the source of the pain I am is experiencing in my lower back. It's mostly on the right side. The powerful prescription drugs might have something to do with it. They might have damaged my kidneys since I'm still drinking more wine than I should.
There is a real good chance I strained some muscles when I was working to bury the network cable between my brother's house and my house. My lifestyle in the last few years has become more sedentary. Jumping into that much work with unlimited zeal may have been the main culprit.
This lower back pain has not been something I could just man up and ignore because I should be well-tempered and tough by this age. Manning up is probably what caused the problem. My brother was trying to help me get faster internet and I wanted to encourage his generosity with a show of enthusiasm.
I do a little yoga-like stretching and walk a couple of miles frequently. Most of the time I give myself a lotta wiggle room as far as beating my body up is concerned. Occasionally I get on my exercise machine and work up the rate of my heart and breathing. I'm always surprised how many repetitions I can do without suffering too much.
The actual flaw in my plan of doing hard physical work on the spur of the moment is that acting batshit crazy to impress my brother that I'm happy he wants me to have a better internet experience doesn't represent Right Thinking or any of the other venues of The Eightfold Path. I can't imagine Gautama would be pleased with my idiocy. Contrarily, however, this morning it seems to be a little better.
The fact that I'm making more mistakes in writing and especially editing is not lost on me. I seem prone to edit some sentence and repeat some connectors twice often enough. I type "that" instead of "than". My touch typing indicates how my mind flies ahead of my fingers. Sometime when I'm editing to try to catch this errata I do find it, but in consideration of how my mistakes are the subject of snotty condescension, I gotta assume there are times when I don't.
It has gotten to the point that I don't really care if anybody tries to struggle through all my "tossed word salad" or dumbass bombastic charade or not. The only goal I've ever had for writing a blog is to reach for a source that can "utter" some outrageous comments in the most elegant way. It doesn't happen all that much, but when it does it makes my clumsiness worth the slings and arrows.
This may be akin to what some people describe as "automatic writing" or "channeling" some otherly force, but I am is too practical to allow that sort of opinion to typecast my efforts. I have used every metaphor or parable or myth I became aware of to label this process to anchor it with some dignity, but my pedantic efforts have failed.
It has only been through retrospection that I've been able to notice any patterns to this "reaching" for the source I reference. Its very real to me. What I am is reaches for is the most permanent feature of my ex-is-tense. I arrogantly assert that it is definitely what I want to identity with as a human or as any other living form I've made myself into via imitation and mimicry.
My awkward, stumblebum attempt to capture drifting thoughts with words has occasionally allowed me to rub shoulders with this source I keep mentioning. I speculate wildly that this source is not the pearl/black hole itself I characterize sometime, but rather one of the three attributes this universal entity brought with it when it was attracted to Earth.
The three attributes I loosely claim the I-am-is brought with it to the planet Earth is curiosity, volition, and memory. It's the memory attribute I am is exploring as the source presently. In that sense it's the more of me than anyone else can perceive. It was the content of my remembering vision. It is the dream pouch for every event or universe this entity has participated in during the entirety of it's existense.
This information has to be extracted and interpreted using abstract ideas or they can't be manifested in the sensory dimension. The construction of abstract notions can be based on anything from anywhere for any reason. My subjective experience tells me the abstract constructions I feign to play Prince Chi to the world with all come from this one un-nay-me-able source.
It is my opinion that most of the holy books in the world make a similar statement in this regard. Basically, that if a human being identifies with this one source instead of all the temptations of the I am, then the "mind" of that specific human won't lose itself in the unending parade of living bodies it passes through without being duped.
If the "mind" part of the adage "Mind is speech. Speech is mind." is grounded in continuous denial that unwaveringly states, "You are not me.", then that mind will not taste death.
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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.
