Monday, April 07 2008...I Get It

I Get It...
...that we mostly learn to speak by hearing what is said.
...that mostly through traditions and happenstance our own birth-time arrives.
...that our rearing space is mostly created by the choices of our parents.
...that we are painstakingly formed in our mother’s womb to eventually become unique and sentient, without regard to what has come before, only with regard to Nature and her will to guide our molecules and tissues by the gravity of Biology and the Cosmos and preter-randomly ignite our being with music and light.
...that through the subtle confluence of all those previous listed do we arrive at this moment, trying to focus our eyes on the slippery glowing eggshell of spirit that floats a golden ratio’s distance above each of our heads, finding it difficult to focus out all the distractions our parts are sending us, realizing our reality is a porthole and subsequently pushing our faces as far into the glass as possible to see the wider universe and seek solace in the other two-dimensional squished up faces around us.
...that this leads me to think that along the scale of accepting things that happen to us, from getting over being born to getting over having to die, we find ourselves where we are so that reality hits each of us slightly or majorly different.

I Get It...
...that to counteract the lightheaded awareness of dizzying differences among us we have language in all kinds of forms.
...that we learn to speak and think in the colloquial of what is said around us, branching off from our breeding point by our choices, and so the child can learn to speak truth to power, and so the parent can learn to speak power to the truth, and so the person can become more open-minded and tolerant.
...that truly we are all Gods; relative to each moment of choice we are given in our Earthly lives we might as well be immortal; you know the old saying, "live each day as though it was your last": isn’t the image that conjures (I personally get a vision of myself swinging around a lamp-post and smiling and waving at everyone on the street as I walk along taking giant steps) and whatever image you conjure when you’re living life like drinking deep appreciation, as deep as it can get, doesn’t that seem like thats what it would feel like to be a God?
...that the compounding of our choices and our environment leads to our Truth (when the Tao is stamped on your soul emerging) and like some mad fractal mathematician this same universe of possiblilities in our heads is reflected and repeated above and below us in the kaleidoscope of other people places and times throughout humanity.
...that like our culture, we individually make sense of reality’s kaleidoscope sphere by the stories we create.
...that where our language goes we follow.

I Get It...
...that the box we all seem so keen to think outside of, instead of cardboard, is a box of inherited words-phrases-stories of colloquial agreement we may or may not agree to.
...that from the kaleidoscope reality occuring inside us to the congress of communication occuring outside our box, a translation is needed and provided for by our mysterious brain.
...that the smoothing of the edges needed to complete the congress of communication often leads us to gesture and say almost involuntarily those things that serve the purpose of the moment and/or our Truth.
...that pretty much everyone in the world has moments and Truth and the power of Gods - we are all one kind, and any barriers to the ideal fulfillment of that truth is an inherited artificial structure created in some moment by some former Truth and has no further power or bearing beyond that.

I get it that I wake up every day with, say 9,342 choices to make before I go to bed; that I don’t have to take anything personally since we’re all divinely equal in our self-story telling abilities; that if I let my higher self hold my spine up by a string I’ll stand tall and walk light; that everyone I meet is me and loving them is supporting me is helping them; that responsibility and delayed gratification are difficult to master, meanwhile they’re also the keys to being a good shepherd; that "living every day like it was your last", as the saying goes, means running boldly off the cliff of inherited colloquial boxes to hang-glide through your day with a free-fall feeling in your stomach, being Truth and shining, with your kaleidoscope sphere tuned to shepherd, and making choices knowing that our nearly immortal collection of moments makes easy leverage to change the tragedies of history and be fulfilled and be fulfilling.