I was applauded this week, and complimented. Strangers came up to me to say nice things and express their appreciation. Yet all I had done was put words to thoughts - truths I had found both relevant and significant. People had evidently felt some essence of these, but not seen the skeleton that gives it shape.
There are truths that are relevant, truths that are significant, and truths that just are. There's a power plug I know of ... in the wall of a room on the other side of the planet. That's true, but irrelevant and of no significance. Until, of course, I visit there again and need to charge my tablet. Context brings relevance, need determines significance. We are surrounded by so many truths - details and facts bombard us incessantly - and the challenge is to filter out those which deserve attention. So in my context I listen, observe, question and explore the thread of logic in order to decide what is relevant, and which are significant. And then I try put words to these. It seems people clapped this week as if I had pulled a rabbit out of the proverbial hat. But it wasn't my rabbit, and the hat is always there. Yet some people seem scared to reach in and take hold of the rabbit, and would rather spend their time on describing the hat, measuring it, and talking about it's shape and colour. All of these facts are truths, none are really relevant, and there's no significance. The rabbit is inside the hat twitching its ears; the hat is merely the container. All one needs to do is reach inside and take hold. Of course, then you'll be holding a truth that's alive, and truths change lives. You'll have to feed the rabbit, interact with it, and embarrassedly explain to others why you're holding a rabbit and where you found it. The reality of what was once hidden changes everything, because a rabbit will not easily go back inside the hat. I was sitting on a plane listening to Jessica Lamb isolate me from home. At 500 miles per hour the ground was passing by and all I could think was holy, holy, while the world decides you're a fable, a figment, a mythical comfort for those who don't think. Yet how do I explain that the values of pain and suffering from greed and gain are not the simple relative values they'd like to define, and say That the passion of our yearnings are either devoid of meaning or else, or else grounded in an absolute of good and consequence.
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Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
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