Thursday, December 13, 2018

The Night Before Christmas. Or is it?


     I can't imagine my life without me in it. After all the years of honing this identity to its unique and awe-inspiring form, I'm not me anymore.
     Oh sure, the outside me is still vaguely recognizable, seemingly well preserved by the elixirs of later middle age or early later age or definitely postmenopausal and not looking a day past sixty age. Admittedly not trying to hide the years of good living, I am replete. Or so I thought.
     I am harping on the philosophy of metaphysical existentialism.  Not knowing if such a description is truthful, it's as close to a definition as I can muster.  The "existential" relates to a principle my father related to me: the verifiable flesh and bones part...I think therefore I am. Metaphysics is a new science to me and is best described as the subconscious narrative that is always present.  That little voice in my head that argues with the "me" I know.  Funny how stifling an endless loop of antagonistic and provocative thoughts can interrupt the flow of things.
     I am and I am not responsible for this outcome.  Contrariness is my natural view of the world.  I can view the world from the front of a multi-paned window and delight in the varied perspectives.  All I have to do is adjust my posture or distance from the window and the other world is all of a sudden very enticing.  The problem becomes the reality of the situation- that I cannot remain at that exact distance or position as I continue to explore.
     I believed in black holes before they were defined. I have known there are a finite number of atoms within the universe; that change is infinite and believed that the universe is undefinable. We will never be able to grasp the enormity of existence. So, what makes you think you can limit my potential?  You can't because we are similar and being similar there are obvious hurdles.  You'd better test your theories on yourself before you attempt using me as a template. I'm just saying.
     That long hallway to the bright light doesn't interest me anymore. I'm not going there. My journey is one of returning to what is within.  Now that I understand that and the pretenses are vanishing, my identity is becoming plural and integral within the universal voice.
     Obfuscation is the ill-mannered bed mate to free will. Commitment and fear play together on the seesaw; balance is never the goal. Clear choices, and with them the consequences of evolution, occupy my mind these days.
     Winter Solstice has come and gone. The world is in chaos and the well-intentioned are grasping for answers. Those who resonate with the highest frequencies in the fourth and fifth dimensions will help to enlighten the masses.
     In my lifetime, man will terraform Mars.  Promise and diligence will carry me to the Milky Way and eventually home.  Me, myself and I will cease to exist and you will wonder where we've gone.
I do not know the answer.
     Virginia still believes in Santa Claus. Anything is possible.


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