Einstein may have been misquoted. Something about the physical, merely a case of manifest slow energy.
My friend, experiencing, an Ireland Dawn, in the zone. For me, progress shows more solid. Slow but noticeable. Cognisable yet shrouded. My friend’s dad eggs her on. Keen to understand; a need for speed.
Ghosts in our machines.
There was a day, years ago, I stood on a bowling green with my own father. It was my time, he noted, in a sporting sense. “Crack on Mark,” he said. “Make the most of it, this moment, it won’t last forever.”
But this thing may be different. My friend may care to take her time, exciting as it feels right here, right now. No rush required – it might just last forever.
I recently delighted in the latest version of a Star is Born. I understood the ‘limited number of notes’ quote. My friend dazzles with her very own interpretations of a timeless song. With self-care and diligence, why should she not rearrange those few universal notes forever and a day?
Internal lightning. Dawning consciousness. Flashing bright. Trust and surrender are key when bridging the edge of the physical, one might speculate.
If speed is not a number (Richard Bach – through a flight addicted character), perhaps our seemingly rock-solid reality is only dreadfully pedestrian through the lens of wakefulness.
Consciousness generated through the physical?
The physical, a creation of consciousness?
The hardest question.
So, here we are. Mastering, remastering, learning. Our concrete world, stubbornly substantial.
Paradigms exist. Paradigms challenged.
Before his passing, Joe Strummer had faith in ‘futures, as yet unwritten.’
Alive today, we struggle on, wearing our heavy biochemical garments.
Loitering darkness to light speed clarity.