August 14, 2007

• Coalescence
  

  Some days the good fortune that visits me is enough to make a man think there could be some higher power at work in his life. But of course, a rational man living in the age of modern science will have had any trace of superstition, mysticism or deity wiped clean from his consciousness like a hard disk that's been zeroed out. The name, James, has been used to identify this personal coalescence of matter for three score of years. Many people, as well as I, myself, have attempted to classify, categorize, pigeonhole, index, typecast, stereotype or otherwise define said coalescence. It's happened so often and with such regularity it's ceased to be monotonous. It has had the effect of giving rise to a certain curiosity in my personal being. What is it that drives us to conclude our insatiable innate sense of curiosity? It's like eating. We get hungry and we eat and we may be sated. I say may because the body is a delicate piece of complex machinery that is easily thrown out of balance. It's further complicated by the interaction between the physical and psychological. And, if we weren't all modern thinkers here, free from superstition, we might be tempted to add a third element into the mix, often called spirit. An increasingly unpopular view in a world where the religion of science is in the ascendancy. As it happens, some relatively short time after we've sated our appetite with foodstuffs, we become hungry once again. But we don't try to find a meal that will end all meals. Yet, in the mental realm we try to find a label that will end any further exploration of the subject. It's like there's so much to discover, so much we don't know, that we don't have time to be thorough.

  During the early seventies, while I was in ministerial school, I took a speed reading course. It was like eating a ninety-nine cent burrito. You got a lot for a little and it held you over till the next machine driven fueling session. I don't speed read, as a rule, because I find it unsatisfying. In fact, I'm a slow reader and a slow liver. Perhaps the reason is I've accepted the limited amount of time this coalescence of matter named James has to discover. Quality may well have edged out quantity in the race. Recently I've enjoyed a flurry of free, unsolicited advice from important persons. Unfortunately, in collecting said free advice, I've found it to be similar in quality to the free sofas left on the side of country roads. No doubt this is due to my lack of education, innate intelligence and understanding. After all, I'm not an important person. I've never published a book and no one wants my autograph on anything other than a personal check. The truth is if I didn't get email from important people telling we what they think I shouldn't do I wouldn't have anything in my inbox besides spam. And there's nothing personal or intimate about spam. But somehow I don't feel the appropriate sense of awe such email should inspire in a nobody like myself. Instead I find myself even more confused than I am usually. I can understand this, I think your associating yourself with the movie mentioned in your blog is not a good idea. That would make more sense to me if I cared about my self-image. But I don't particularly. I mean, after all, I'm not asking anyone for money. I'm not selling anything. I'm not asking anyone to believe anything. I'm not trying to be some one or get some where. I'm simply sharing my life with anyone who cares to participate at any level they choose.

  The next bit simply left me scratching my thick and stupid head. Also, separating the alchemical work from your own particular theological views is important. I feel like the caveman in the Geico commercial. Wha? Why would anyone care about my particular theological views? They are, quite frankly, beyond my own understanding. To separate myself from them, whatever they may be, would be incredibly time consuming at this point. First, I'd have to define them. Since they are almost constantly changing that would be an ongoing process. At which particular point in time would I pin the tail on the donkey, as it were? The donkey keeps moving, the pin won't stay put and my hand is a mass of swirling subatomic particles that randomly appear and disappear. Yikes! Is it any wonder I'm confused? Perhaps this is why people feel the need to advise me. It's like seeing a homeless man on the street who doesn't even have the sense to ask you for a dollar when you pass. He clearly needs a bath, a meal and clothes but he's so far gone he's beyond caring about any of his external needs. Could it be that I've meditated so much that my brain has finally gone soft? If I could remember I'm sure I'd remember that I got some free advice about that at some point in time. That if I meditated too much I'd get too detached from the physical world and become worthless. But then I'm not even sure what worthless means. It seems so subjective. If the earth were made of gold a man would die for a handful of dirt. What determines worth or value? Is it simply scarcity? Please, if you feel the need to advise me remember that you're going to have to put it in terms I might be able to understand. Okay, I'm going to go now. Thanks for reading.
  

  • 11:48 am
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