There are moments when I see with such clarity. What I see passes through my mind with little understanding, and it takes hold of me in such a way that it must be realized, must be expressed. The attempt to understand without having created is deadly to the idea. These are such times when I see with eyes open.
There is much of this world that we seek to understand by rational thought. By classification and categorization, perpetuated by rote memorization. None of these things are wrong in of themselves. But these approaches by themselves shape reality into a much more limited sense than what really is.
Nothing I see is only of me. In this beautiful world in this amazing time we have our own amazing act to play before the curtain falls on our lives. Before the show goes on with another cast who are in fact our understudies at this very moment. Just as we had been once and always are, we are inextricably tethered to the minds all around and all who have ever been.
I can think of no utopia now that would not be merely a betterment of what I see as wrong with today, without immediately realizing that in that day the utopia itself would cease to suffice. There will always be those with eyes open. And there always have been. We are the falling dominos during our little time, and without any of the fallen there would be an end to the continuity. And all this relates to a time scale beyond our own lifetime, but the metaphor applies to that within as well. When my eyes open and I express I wish nothing for myself, I simply must express. I must do what I feel, maybe it is as simple as perpetuating the opening of the eyes of the world around me, of opening the eyes however slightly of the people who can do more than me. Maybe its that simple. Maybe it runs deeper, and I am but the puppet of the puppeteer who is actually our own collective mind. Or maybe whatever it is would make that seem even more simple itself. My eyes are not open from my own volition but from the synthesis of all around me and beyond. Just like you.
We are no different. It is only a matter of choice. There is irrefutable evidence to the allure of inertia. Anyone can argue that there is nothing to change, that happiness is abound, and they would not be wrong. We live and we die, and we cry and we smile, we laugh and we are silenced. We can love in the face of hate. As so many have before us and will again when we are gone ourselves. What use is any of this struggle, whether it be ambition or amnesty or any flavor of action.. still there is the resounding question of why? Because when our eyes are open we cannot do other than what we must at having experienced this. In precisely the same form as a physical glimpse, how can we not react to what we see? The only way to not act is to again close your eyes. And some can, and in truth some must.
A quick scan of what I have written reveals to me how inadequate words are at expressing what it is I am feeling. I cannot help what you think of me from this or any of my writings, so trust me in this once and believe that I speak as a messenger and not for myself. Liken this to an account of fiction, with "I" and "me" representing a fictional character, and this merely being a cross section of his or her mind. This statement makes me laugh, because I think that is precisely my point. There is really no single individualism possible in this world. For me to speak of me is already venturing into a realm of fiction.
When I write, I do not know what I am going to write, how I am going to write, my word choice or sentence structure. Upon close analysis, I fail to even understand how it is that I actually know these things that I speak of. Where do these thoughts come from? How can such a word as "thought" be so painfully inadequate? The expression of an idea leaves a residue that is an image greater than that which spawned it in the first place. My muse is all. When I see with eyes open, what I see is not apparent to me in any of my senses, nor can I precisely trace any of it to a collection of memories or experience. It is beyond that, it is within that, it is without that, all at once.
There is so much to be enjoyed in this world. I have often and still idealize a life free to wander, to explore, to experience, to love and let go and love anew, to see, and just to be. I long for that. But I know that I will know no peace in a life like that. Not yet. I hope that there will be a time afforded to me when the beauty that I see with these eyes will be ready for my steady gaze. But not just yet. What I see without these eyes tells me that to be content with what is, is to ignore what I see, to be complacent in a time where I must do what I realize is truthform.
My most profound understanding of this stems from my most enjoyable attempt at understanding our existence. That we each are one and the same. We are merely expressed 'differently' through some physical illusion of time and space. When I dream I am I no longer, and when I return to this body and still dream, my mind with its memory attempts to draw metaphors in the form of combinations of things I have seen to reveal to me in analogy what is is that we are, beyond ourselves. So too in the moments when I am 'awake'. This life is but a dream in itself, a reflection of a reflection, a countable infinity composed of the uncountable.
I can accept that at any stage, at any moment, what I say and what I think and what I do can be wrong. In fact, all it takes is a shift of perspective in some way for anything to be seen as wrong, and I am fully capable of these shifts myself. But these things must be said and thought and done. I can see that in truth there is the seed of a lie. But when that lie grows so too will the truth. Its a complex world when we rationalize it as such. We can call the form of existence as 'fractyllic', resembling a fractal. Or relating to the Droste effect. In this rational world heisenbergs uncertainty principle is in full force, and our observation has the power of affecting an outcome. An electron can tunnel through an inpenetrable wall. We try to define the physical on the physics that once defied physics.
To truly understand this world is an enigma that will always amuse and trouble man, because the only true understanding is that there is none at all. It is a beautiful world of paradox and limitless limits, of relativity and of perspective. It is our world and noones alone. The world of one is the world of all. All we owe to this wonderful place is to listen to what we call the heart, to see with what we call the third eye, to feel with what we call the soul. Every living creature, every object, and every force unseen..We are all one.If you were me, it would be as it is already. Our ability to share, whether it be our ideas or our creations, is at a level surely incomprehensible to our predecessors. We must do so. There is no day in the future that will be easier than it is today to live and breathe and accept the ever changing, to grow with it, and to spread it. Remember those moments when you saw with eyes open, and choose to do so again.
We are all in this together, and it couldn't be any other way.