All layers of metaphors and puns in the title and text are intended ... come and visit my mind. This may not make sense to anyone, but I live in it each day. Each day I wander in a haze, like strolling through galactic gas clouds where the hard bright star lights are all so distant; everything is there to amaze and admire, but nothing is solid enough to hold. Endless cascades of imaginations are triggered by trivia, but my energy density is so low that any productivity is minimal. The landscape is seemingly infinite promising yet my transport system is poor – its all horse drawn carts to traverse an eternity. At least I'm a good conversationalist – with myself. Sadly I don't often disagree with myself, and so me and my thoughts drift along in comfortable companionship as we wait for that passing vehicle; the transport of delights. Yearnings are there, but without any overriding imperative to be fulfilled – or is it the fear that the dark canyons of failure are too deep for me to cross over – they remain just that, yearnings. The knowledge of right and wrong is mostly enough to stay on the path until my hyper-leaps of imagination transfer me into temporary wonder-worlds – until dawn, whereupon gravity glances my way and reality, such as it is, reasserts itself. I'm left only with images of what could be. I'm fully conscious – conscious that my expression falls way short of my potential. Potential energy is always such a sad situation; until it's released there can be no conversion into action. There, but for a strategic spark, goes a potential firework display that could dazzle in fulfillment of its created purpose, and rightly burn out with such rapidity that all around are left with an imprinted, unforgettable after-image. Instead, this slowly aging lump fades against the background as it waits for that strength of will to ignite from the inside out. Self regulation is sometimes too effective. There's a gap in my future, two gaps. Over one I must leap to release my stored potential, but the second is where I will be inevitably carried across so I can be renewed. I fear that I will be carried before I've fully leaped, and then my potential will be left disappointingly unused, wasted, and replaced. What an inefficient life we lead. The saving grace in all this are these flashes of clarity when the haze parts momentarily and a vista is revealed. For an instant I can see clearly now, where what I once knew was only dimly seen. These moments come like hard bricks of solid rain that build a palace of understanding. What was once a drifting perception finds an anchor, and its as if the hint has solidified into a rock as if it had always been there. It's not something awesome and new, rather only that the now-obvious reality has materialized from what was always there. Like gravity – of course it must do that, why is everyone else too dull to see. Oh the effort of explaining the obvious. What I could once not be taught, when learned is seemingly impossible to teach. How can one be instructed in experience. How can one instruct others in what is a personal realization. My greatest longing: that great fans would just for a second sweep aside the mist that I might realize for the first time the full solidity that surrounds me. Let the mist then return, it now has no consequence, for once seen I know what's there, and the distortions of the light matter no more.
1 Comment
Nancy
14/8/2014 11:55:28 pm
What a delightful mind journey. Keep writing! :)
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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
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