Until Named

 Until named:

everything just is - until named and defined by expectations. It's an easy way to navigate the world, providing a certain understanding and useful information. But it's not entirely how things are, it's only a surface reality, not telling me the whole story. My wish is to know, to explore what the world tells me before it comes to words - and then from here to write as clear as possible without story other than my own. 

it's not that I will believe my own fiction any more than what was offered from others - it's simply experience first before translation, my own sense of how things are without being told to just except the authority of another. Direct experience. Of course this what is always happening, everything is direct, personal through awareness. Yet it's easily, quickly forgotten, dismissed through the hurry of the day. What I bring now is my attention, an easy, relaxed note of not just what's occurring, but that it occurs and I am aware and that at no point is there a gap between them. Even as I offer a name to these events they flow without interruption, life being expressed in the very moment of my narration, another story told - but somehow different now. 

as the world is, and this includes my stories, labels I believe in, arguments for things to be other than what's found. Fiction is no escape for reality, and yet it seamlessly belongs as well. Every story is just a translation of the world, an assist to belong with a certain ease and understanding. It's why things are given names, an attempt to really know what something is. What's lost, forgotten, is that everything is already known for the reality of what it is - a tree is no less before it's labeled, in truth, seeing it directly tells me nothing, it simply reveals exactly, only what is present now. It's complete, without story. 

so everything just is - simply, direct, and experienced without story. Then too, is the experience of the story, every bit as real in its own way, not to be dismissed. It belongs in the same everything, the seamless whole. My joy is in writing the thoughts which appear in my mind, knowing that no matter what I write it's all fiction, and yet it's somehow true as well. At lease in a sense...

~

Peace, Eric