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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