Physics of Language

Physics of language:

there is a well remembered quote from the spiritual text A Course in Miracles that states "let's not forget, however, that words are but symbols of symbols, they are thus twice removed from reality" - I keep this in mind through my own use of words, reminding myself that what I write is only a representation of the reality I wish to convey and will never quite capture the essence of the vision I put forth. But I don't completely hold the same opinion of distance from words to reality that the Course holds. I believe that words have an alchemical quality to them, transformative in their affect on those who read them, and although they remain symbols, they vibrate with the very same essence of what they wish to convey. It's the physics of a single word or well used phrase. The physics of language.

the argument is that no matter how descriptive the language used by Mark Twain in Huckleberry Finn, we still remain seated in our room, far removed from the Mississippi's flow, never actually feeling the power of the river as it meets an oar. Or as Alan Watt's famously said, " you can't get wet from the word water." What's Watt's is saying is that no matter how powerful the language, it is never the actual substance of its description. Thoughts only represent realty, not being the actual thing at all.  

but let's talk essence.

physics.

or at least my own imagined physics of language, my belief in the transformative and alchemical process of writing that allows words to carry the very essence of their description. Language is a powerful vibration of choice, a reader willing suspends the reality of a present situation and is carried to a realm of pure imagination, a dimension of  potentiality existing in the same moment of our ordinary lives. Through the right use of words we simply vibrate to other states of possibilities. Or maybe it's less physics and more of a shaman's journey - but my own imagination tells me they're the same. This insight informs me that in order for a symbol to be an accurate representation of a thing (no matter twice removed) it must carry the essence of the idea it represents, vibrating at a similar yet more subtle level of existence. That it's more a faint impression of the very same thing, an essence carried through vibration. This could be likened to a seed, that while an apple is never actually found within it's seed of origin, it's not truly removed either, there is always something of one found within the other.

essence. 

the right word is simply a seed of large ideas, not a symbol really, but a faint impression transported from the realm of our imagination. The physics of language is one of vibrations, a carried essence of what's imagined to the ordinary world of our perception. It's not that one is more real than the other, but more a quality of vibration, of same essence at its core. 

no matter how far it's seemingly removed.

~

Peace, Eric 

The Expression Itself

It's the expression itself that truly matters:

 I try and not state things in terms of being absolute, that what I express is in anyway a true and certain revelation. These are insights for myself alone, shared for what I feel is the sake of art, as words are given only to be read by others too. I love the phrase "prose poem" and that's really what I strive for, successfully so or not is for me to say. What I do is simple, a plan of silence and then whatever words appear, writing with an easy manner, without a chase for theme or words, letting ideas find me as I go. Nothing is forced, mistakes largely ignored as I focus on the flow of words. The expression itself is all that truly matters. My satisfaction is through the whole process, found in the silence just before and following each word, in the joyful turn of certain phrases and any insight they provide. 

but it's the expression itself that truly matters.

so anything I write should never be taken as literally so, insights are meant to guide us to a fluid truth, certain only for the moment that they're written and then let go. Nothing is ever absolute, least of all words that merely act as symbols for some deeper insights found through the silence of their hold. Words are pointers, vital in their purpose, but never meant to be taken for the reality of this moment. Reading the right flow of words is actually an act of surrender, an artful act of letting go, as each word loses itself again to a silent pause before another word's appearance. 

it's the same with writing. 

and it's why I consider everything I write as an expression of art, that it's only meant for the moment of my writing and then surrendered to whatever other purpose it might hold. It's not my role to provide any meaning to a reader, it's the expression itself that truly matters, the art of its arrangement, and the entire process of this inspiration - my role is only through this moment, and then surrendered to any reader who find these words. 

any meaning found is yours.

~

Peace, Eric 

Single Body

Single body: 

our skin too belongs to air, less a barrier than a bridge touched between a gathering of our senses and the extension of the world. There is really only one body, found in layers and perceptions, universal, expanding in its self-creation. We are the singularity that somehow desired it's expansion, the continuation of the Big Bang, individual, aware, but always part of this enlargement of desire, a single body really. In this light we are simply layers of participation, cells and molecules of the next greater layer, being the skin of some further continuation of this expansion. 

essential aspects of the whole.

a single body.

yet we believe ourselves to be somehow smaller than this, a world entirely of our own separated from infinite other smaller worlds, all untouched by the very thing of our containment. But there is only a single air between us, one sky caressed against each world, being the bridge of our connection. We are not smaller worlds at all, something far greater still, and not even really layers of participation - we are that single, larger body, the universe in self belief of being a smaller world. It's an illusion of the senses, that we claim the view as ours alone, every sound only for our ears, a touch exclusive to our skin. It's not like that at all though, letting go of the belief of self containment and our world grows very large at once,immediately found infinite, a single body that even now continues in the sweep of its expansion. 

so this single body is ours, not the small world of our beliefs but this whole great expansion and our every experience, each sound and scent, everything seen and known by touch, it's all perceived through the universe at large. By the single body of our existence. Just one thing, one experience alone, vibrating through the entirety of the whole. We belong at air, and further still....

we continue.

~

Peace, Eric 

Inspiration Always Finds Me

Inspiration always finds me: 

with infinite things to write of, this moment, and inspiration finds me here - right now it's early morning, sun still not even a hint of being shown, deeply quiet except for an occasional note from a lone bird outside my window, it's call, as yet unanswered by a chorus that's will soon arrive. This is my writing time, my ritual of morning, sipping coffee, and completely unconcerned of any topic or theme to write of, no need to search for certain words. 

inspiration always finds me here.

this ritual has been long cultivated, years of showing up here before the sunrise, a first meditation to immerse myself in the deep silence of the morning, my practice being patience, no rush for anything to be accomplished. My pace is matched to the slow process of the sun, dawn has an easy reach without rush to light the day. I can afford to take my time, inspiration always finds me here, and there's absolutely nothing that needs to be written. The silence of the morning is enough for me to sit and listen to, a poetry of air in its quiet wait for any sound, stillness and the potentiality for motion to arise. There are infinite things to write of in this moment, and inspiration always finds me here.

what I long ago discovered is that there's no need for me to write of anything at all, there doesn't have to be a topic, no grand theme full of meaning and importance. There are endless things to write of and this is because this moment, right now, and always right now, is my singular point within the infinite, nothing being separate from the universe at large, this moment itself eternity. How could I not be inspired? Anything written now has arrived from a place of mystery, every word is spontaneous in its appearances, gifted to my mind to ponder, for my fingers to type, and to this moment on the page. 

so really, inspiration doesn't find me, it's here all along, the infinite disguised as my ritual of the morning, providing me with endless things to write of, or nothing at all, as silence itself is so full of possibilities and meaning, always sharing without need of being expressed as words. This is the infinite, right now, all of it, with silence and words both being found within the seamlessness of its embrace - and I too belong here, simply part of this endless inspiration.

always.

~

Peace, Eric 

Field of Creativity

Field of creativity:

that it's all a field of creativity, everything, and we too are simply means of this expression - there's really no other explanation for life, for our existence in the world. Neither science nor religion ever really captures the essence of why we are here, with science offering detailed evidence of how the universe came to be, and religion providing myths to satisfy the curiosity of our minds. My own theory is one of possibilities, that we belong within an infinite field of creativity, and reality is in constant rearrangement of itself, spontaneous, an expression never meant to last beyond the moment it arises.

a cosmic art form.  

of course this isn't really a theory, let alone one of my own ideas, it's just a play of words to capture the deep sense of belonging to some vast field of creativity, that I am an aspect of life that seems to have somehow found itself aware, awakening for the sole purpose of appreciation and participation in this creative act of living. We are an expression of the whole universe, artfully arranged through every given moment, fluid, vital. We are infinitely expressed, but only temporary in this particular presentation, and even now we're shifting towards another show of who and what we truly are...

motion.

art.

an infinite field of creativity.

 and with this our every expression is just right, unable to be judged as anything other than divine by very nature. Our participation is given so that we can be continuously expressed, constantly rearranged through every possibility of living. We are not meant to be static, to hoard our worth in small beliefs of who we are - we are the universe in creative display, infinite, designed to participate within the grandness of this full expression. We are the entire creative field arranged to show a lifetime, spontaneous, ever changing, and now aware that this is so. Our every act is creative, divine, and with this we let go of each expression of the past, allowing ourselves to participate in what each moment offers, a constant presentation of life through every possible arrangement. 

an infinite field of creativity.

~

Peace, Eric 

World Turns Green

World turns green: 

this is when the world turns green and bright with colors that display the vibrancy of life, it's the show of winter's dormant worth through another seasons gain. Winter appears barren for certain trees and plants, yet life is simply slowed for their protection, a forest's deep rest before again this vibrant green returns and wakes my world from its own seeming slumber. I come alive in the warmth and green of spring and early summer, a cold depression lifted by the reach of verdant branches and the fractals they display, by the nearness of sun touched against my skin. 

my soul is reawakened as the world turns green.

winter has its beauty, stark lines of empty branches framed against the sky, earth itself unadorned and offered in the innocence of its deep rest, it's vibrancy shown in slumber. I find beauty in winter, creativity, and my own slower pace of moving through the season is healing in its way. There is a need for winter, the rest of spirit and body that it provides, a preparation for another season's warmth and color. Life is seen more clearly through the aspects of its change, its continuation through each season, from subtle displays of winter to the full show of spring's verdant offer. 

everything belongs, for whatever length its season.

but knowing this doesn't always help my soul through winter, as cold touches deep and my body yearns for longer days of sun, for just a light touch of warmth, or a small show of green. Winter seems a longer season for me now, a bit harder on both spirit and my body. And following seasonal patterns I find myself withdrawing deep within, offering my own stark lines, protecting myself against the worlds cold touch and loss of vibrant color. It's a hard season for so many. 

and as the world turns green...we celebrate springs's return. 

the sun is that much nearer, more warmth given to its touch, and those once stark lines of branches are now blooming in green leaves and the blossoms of their nature. It's a season of renewal. Of course there is no lasting season, there is always change and motion, a fast approach of summer, autumn, and another winter always follows. My approach is to simply live within the present season, colder months are over now, it's spring, and the world turns green with grace and wonder. 

that's enough for me right now. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Without Any Real Effort

Without any Real Effort:

so now I'm  approaching the end of my meditation instructors training, six months of learning how to teach, and after 30 years of practice - every aspect leading to this point has been life changing for me. I'm fortunate to have discovered meditation during a troubled time of heavy drinking, loneliness, the end of a long term relationship, and so many unanswered questions concerning my life's path, actually, so many questions simply unasked for fear of having no answers. Meditation helped me gain the courage to ask, and more so, to be okay with the fear of not knowing answers, or even what to ask of myself. What my practice did was to help me relax as the person that I was, while providing space for the person that I found myself becoming. It still does, and all without any real effort to this cause, just a natural unfolding of my life. 

easy, effortless. 

yet not without action. 

and that's an important understanding, for when there's talk of least effort it's sometimes taken as no action at all, a passive approach to life, and this couldn't be farther than the truth at all. My example is ending my relationship with alcohol, that it wasn't a battle of hard knuckle withdrawal, filled with interventions and rooms of smoke filled meetings. Although that's a path so many have to take, it wasn't mine, for whatever reason, but mostly simply the grace of something unexplained - it was my time to stop drinking. I somehow knew this, and so I moved myself into alignment with whatever energy was drawing me to new directions. Without any real effort. But with definite actions taken. Drinking was a way of life for me, sociable, my friendships were all bar related, and I drank with singular purpose - my goal was to alter the perception of myself through consumption of alcohol. In other words, I drank for the sole reason of getting drunk. Period, And I did, daily, even as I maintained a rigid fitness routine, competitive in martial arts and weightlifting. But never truly happy. 

being in alignment healed me, helped me find a happiness that was independent of my goals, of career, and relationships. Meditation helped bring me into alignment. The process for me wasn't to rid myself of flaws but to find myself fully whole with every single perceived flaw, to just allow myself to be exactly and only what I was through every given moment. There isn't any real effort in this sense of being...life simply is, and continues to unfold as so.

easy, effortless.

what meditation did for me, does, is to help keep me responsive, open, trusting that I remain aligned with life, indeed, that there is only life in full alignment. There isn't any real effort in being alive, no struggle for breath to find me, my body functions with a wisdom of its own. So I relax in my true nature, an aspect of life, human, flawed only through my own perceptions. It's healing to simply allow myself to be...and meditation provides me the space for this healing to occur. 

and all without any real effort. 

~

Peace, Eric