I don’t know what I’m doing here. Or any of us for that matter.
I don’t truly feel that any time has elapsed since birth. I have memories, yes, but that does not imply that any time has elapsed. ‘Time is relative.’ I think enough people understand this mathematically or have experienced this that its well hammered into our heads enough to take it for granted, which is a sure sign that something is true. But this means that the entire Universe could very well be a moment long, or just as likely an eternity… an eternal moment??
So it feels as though no time has passed in all my life.
When I think ‘how long does it feel since you were 10’ I think 10 minutes at most, not much. And ‘how long does it feel since I was last at work’ and I think a few hours, but how can that be. It’s all in your head bro. You made time up. I did that. I made up time to experience a journey. (you made that up)
So I don’t know what I’m doing here. Or any of us.
Dreams. That’s the unmade expereince. I didn’t make those. Who the hell is I??
I don’t know. I don’t even know where here is, and the here apparently doesn’t know who I is. But if I and here exist within a construct that is time or at very least contains time, does that imply that I and here are relative. Changing, only changing? And I thought time was made up by I anyway. Then that means I lives within I? I experiences I. Why?
Why is a delusion. Then how?
… and for how long- instantly forever. I can’t be anything more or less than myself and whatever capability that title contains. So I can only be I, and due to relativity, that means everything instantly forever.
I hoped that by this time in my life I would have at least some beginning semblance of understanding of something, anything. I am still just as deeply notched in the labyrinth though. We thought we witnessed God, or some kind of truth. Delusions. Part of the labyrinth. Part of I.
Nothing wrong with delusions anyhow. No wrong or right. Life is a delusion.
Objectivity an imaginative farce. Mystery the only reality.
Actually enigmatic actuality.
These thoughts, these senses- waiting, or perhaps simply being- this eternal moment. Yugen.
"To watch the sun sink behind a flower clad hill. To wander on in a huge forest without thought of return. To stand upon the shore and gaze after a boat that disappears behind distant islands. To contemplate the flight of wild geese seen and lost among the clouds. And, subtle shadows of bamboo on bamboo."
What do these all have in common?
Maybe that’s the whole point. Yugen.