Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Some of what I mean by spiritual, a foundering forward in words.
(I expect this topic I'm stuck on now may be of interest only to me. I can't really tell, but I still want to go forward with it, see where to.)
That profundity is not the oh-wow of knock-you-over revelation, but simplicity—‘normalcy’—itself. I know this sounds obvious, and it is, and if it weren’t it wouldn’t be. The search for hidden meaning is a search to remember to undeceive yourself of the idea you need to undeceive yourself. There are no hidden meanings but the ones you pretend. But there are meanings we think around which are apparent. That is, meaning is almost always something we use to avoid, not perceive, reality.
That your consciousness, your intent, has an affect on the world beyond merely altering your perceptions. That you yourself are not but yourself, are also part of your environment. That time moves through you and not just you.
That society takes energy of intent to maintain and that it relies on orderly predictable uses of this energy to maintain its structure.
That the nonphysical self, realizing itself, can manifest effects other-than-body. That the nonphysical self has—can have—that which is beyond time or space. That there is an energy of existence you can act on which acts on you; you can act through which acts through you; you can manifest that manifests as you.
That you can’t analyze a body by dissection any more than you can a poem. I mean, you don’t believe a poem can be known or understood from its components, why would you a person? It’s absurd, when you look at it. It’s like saying “sound doesn’t exist because I can’t see it.”
I mean that thing which present gives life to words. Yet is not words. And not only words.
That there is a natural order.