The job I have.. I came into it carrying my personality in bags and boxes before me, displayed as if to unpack and rearrange; a merchant of myself, displaying my wares, my best qualities. Shining ancient crystals without a human finger print smudge; vials of my bluster; tonics of lemon-rose kindness and bitter fly agaric paranoia. I had warding sticks of standoffishness, dowsing rods of friendship.
That was incredibly naive of me, to think that anyone in a job-type setting, a mundane work setting, to care about the whole person. They need specifics of my ability to be mobile at a certain speed, my hands to maneuver and fix problems as directed by certain qualities of my mind. All that extra filler: My love of the transcendent, of art, beauty, my humor, other higher cognitive functions, my creativity as it doesn’t pertain to my job description. All kind of in the way, unnecessary.
Not the right place for it, not the arena where I can bare all. This isn’t a complaint. This is just a review, an assurance to myself, that I can change things in the world. I cannot change what I would like to change or initiate the birthpangs of such a change from my current daytime job. That is absurd to think. But yet, I was naive enough to try it. This doesn’t make me feel bad, however. There is actually a certain joy that I now see comes from understanding that I am liberated even further from the expectations of other people, from the effects and measures they take to control their worlds to the effect of decadent sameness, comfortability, uniformly unhealthy sense-pleasures, all with an arch of apathy propping it up from horizon to horizon. In this way they suspend what they think is a halcyon construct indefinitely, until it grows stale. This is hilariously misconstrued as “progress”, this spiritual decay that seeps into the very sunlight of their homeostatic world.
I think that this place deliberately seeks to crush people down, render them into only what is absolutely useful for what their jobs call them to do. This is done in such an insidious way. You can see broken fingernail chips embedded in the walls, scratches attempting to pierce the ultra-dense anti-philosophy impacted into this horrifically ill beast’s colon, this hard-pan desert where the husks of the dead etch their soul’s ideograms by dreary firelight. You can see that it is just a bit more pressure than normal that cripples people faster, wears them down by continual re-tooling and whittling of their being by a stripping down of their ability to change Anything about this place, and then making them just comfortable enough to not want to change anything.
This is the death of the human. The will to not want to change, the hatred of change. This disempowers us and gouges out our as-yet infant third eye. What is the fundamental reality within which we live? It is one of constant motion and change; Nothing, absolutely nothing is static. This is misconstrued as entropic. Everything is winding down, the universe itself grinding to a halt in a uniform cold black homogenous subatomic sludge. The ultimate fate of all matter. I don’t think this is true. I think we are tempted to believe such a nihilistic idea because of the reality of death as the end of every organism, the dissolution of every structure.
What we are seeing is the dissolution of form only! Things appear to be destroyed only in reference to the way our minds function with language to categorize being into specific chronological events that must have distinction through contrast. There doesn’t seem to be a mode of awareness for every day life and the way we function every day to facilitate an unbroken, clear focus upon one phenomenon. So attention stops and starts, chopping what would otherwise be a seamless, flowing continuum of events, polarizing it into instances to reverse-engineer causally. Polarization of time-space events seems to be at the root of causation. We create forms through this polarizing of events (or of the continuum into events) that must interact somehow.
Conceptually, we keep these forms as mental models for the universe we live in, in an effort to understand it, one another, and our own minds. We encompass more and more of the continuum as we further polarize it with conceptual forms, which further define our thinking. The unavoidable consequence is that we cannot see the reality beyond our own toolbox of conceptual lenses, because it requires further construction of finer and more complex lenses. These frozen snapshots of reality are taken to be reality itself. Our forms we hold dear in mind, like a mantra, for how we think the world is, is the root of suffering, of dissolution of forms mistaken for reality and identity for the human being.
Having a human mind, or even a mind in general, entails this great strength and flaw. Being able to adopt, create, or render new forms is a matter of creativity and mental acuity. Reaching the threshold in peak experiences where one is actuating the flow of formlessness, the pure continuum of reality as it appears to us in the most naked form that it can through the medium of the senses (or quantum entanglement, perhaps) is the first step to realizing the nature of mind at large, and is the further key that solves the problem of dissolution, of death and decay. The dark idol of death is the most stagnant and pestilential example of our attachment to form. We cannot conceptualize beyond it; it lies at a liminal zone of knowledge for us. There is no dissolution, unless it is of a form that has been artificially preserved, a form that can no longer comport to the ebb and flow of the continuum at large.
So, “Be like Water, my friend”. The great mass of humans can be seen as a flowing stream. I adjust myself and the way I interact so that it comports with the continuum at large, instead of the circus of forms that one merely becomes, from time to time, entangled with. It is a piercing up into the more subtle realms of thought, a constant pressure to rise and perceive the intrinsic order of the universe, which is an absolute beauty, joy, transcendence..