Was that light playing on water? Is this, below?
They are one, but only when my body and mind are one. They are different at the same time. This difference is not to be dissected but entered. Here I am…
I am that body. The thing I have been trained to call “I” is a thing made out of these perceptions. In Canadian culture, such perceptions are called fanciful. I can’t help that. Here are the same leaves that have fallen on dry land.
The difference between the two visions of the leaves (in water and on land) is not the difference between water and the earth, but how a human body perceives that difference. They are visions. They are readings, not of the self or of the body, but of a spiritual presence. To read a mind, look here:
It requires the giving up of the self, that’s all. But then, the self is the only thing that stands between you and the reeds below, which is another manifestation of the play of water and light. You don’t have to become the reeds, or the tree or pond above, to be them. That is a fallacy that comes from reading books and living so much in light you are blind to the dark. It is the Canadian way, but, as I said, I can’t help that.
It is easier to enter a body in the world, if sight is not overly privileged. You have been trained to do just that, in the culture of the self, in the discipline of analytical observation which is the culture of the book.
You’ve been trained, in other words, as a book. This, for example, is a book.
So is this.
The ability to stop the world as it flows through you, to develop it…
… is what book culture calls creativity, which is also known as progress and urbanization (which is also known as civilization).
We all have potential for so much more. The pond below is not a narrative of ecosystem restoration but of complex relationships between forms of energy, including the energies of time and mass, as read by bodies. The solidity of the boulder below, and its combined weight and weightlessness, those are part of the way you know how to read the world. That’s you. It’s not creative, because it is an entering into a state of creativity, not its ownership by a self.
In book culture, creativity is defined as the capacity for the making of entirely new things in the world, although there is nothing new in the world unless you separate yourself from it and ignore what you already know. Look at the gap between willows in water …
… and the ones reflecting into the water.
They are the same in the world. You are the difference —and you are the bridge. As the year closes, I’m thinking of these things. I’m pondering the difference between identity and the self. I am meditating on creativity, not because I use the concept, but because the culture that has taken over the earth I live in does, and I find it a dangerous thing. Our children deserve it to be taken to task and clearly defined as the ghost it is. If I were to ask, how did I come to this place, that would be the book talking.
In the world, there is no question, and no book, only the opening that brought this moment here.
Questions, in other words, are the book talking — useful, for sure, but no more a universal tool than a hammer or a pair of pliers. They are extensions of the body, but not the body. The body doesn’t need wings to fly.
And now, well, now it’s early in the new sun.
There’s time, still, to set the book down for a moment, and be present … not to live in the present, as the book demands, but to be present, which is an entirely different thing.
Soon enough, you will be lost again to the world of selves, I’m sure, as will I. If I could make a wish for you, for this coming year, do, please go lightly there.
I’ll be here walking with you.
This discussion will be expanded over the next couple weeks.