It’s sad to get lost in reminiscence only to remember that the past can’t be brought back. Our only return to it is in a potent melody or smell or getting lost in a daydream of days passed. Such a bittersweet feeling is left the further we get from the times these things recall. The present moment can’t compete with such mental trickery. No wonder we get excited about potential disasters such as this hurricane. It’s the only kind of thing that can compare to our rosy selective memories. Life is short. Is it too much to wish for a little excitement?
A thousand birds were winging their way around scattered everywhere with very little rhyme or reason and it reminded him to look up. And it reminded him to look around. It was dusk. The trees and ground and buildings were that dark violet silhouette you only see at dusk. The sky filled in the rest behind it and from east to west it was blue then green then orange then yellow. Dan could almost pick the place in the sky where the color changed to the next the transitions were so abrupt. Birds and more birds silently slid amidst this visual beauty.
It was moments like these that Dan found were most easy to find himself and forget the past for a moment, stop rehearsing the future. There in that moment he felt he more understood what it meant to be aware. Being. Awareness. Was this kind of what the books talked about when they talked about enlightenment? Dan saw himself not at all as someone who was enlightened and in fact had kind of given up on the idea of this supreme realization that tore his old perception of the universe in half leaving the solace of pure understanding. Only in times like these when he could be content in the moment did he feel there could be something more, even just a shred of that enlightened solace.
He did gain a deeper understanding of the value of things in that moment. He saw more clearly how that moment, and each concurrent passing moment, or as we just call it: the present, was all we had. There was no value in endings, any ending. Death or loss or heartbreak. None. The universe is ending incarnate, built into everything is an ending. Nothing, nothingness, is inevitable.
Truly beautiful, and all that is worthy of celebration are beginnings. And havings. The briefest of moments when your world rubs against anothers and something glorious sparks between these heavenly bodies. These are the rare and beautiful gems in the universe, worthy of all your adoration and gratitude. When they’re gone, cast them aside, and do not mourn. That moment was special but now it is gone with the infinity of other lost things. Keep your mind on the ground under your feet or you will lose all that you’ve ever had.
The only for-sure, definite meaning we can garner from life is the effect our small push of actions and ideas has on the evolution of humanity. They push it slightly in your own direction whether you intend it or not.
My concern is that we are more powerful than simply causing ‘slight’ effects. My concern is that my thoughts have some degree of responsibility for recent world events. Talk of ashes and cloudy minds are more evident on the web lately – or am I just preoccupied since I keep experiencing these things. Perhaps it’s just that feeling I’ve been waking up with. This morning is the worst yet. I’ve realized it’s not just a cloudy feeling, it’s paranoid. Like that feeling that pot causes. You’ll know it if you’ve smoked it – it’s the uncomfortable ruminating and obsessive paranoia that only comes from the strange ability to focus imparted by marijuana.
The more I learn about the system that governs the structure we live in, the more cynical I became until I finally dropped out of it. I stopped caring, thinking I would just try to live outside of it. Until I realized that becoming one more person who understands and cares is the most important thing I could do.