“There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.”
Salvador Dali
I have this recurring sensation going on that I love life even though some of it sucks really badly. I have been doing quite a lot of checking in on myself lately. Firstly to check on my mental well-being, and equally, on my intentions, particularly with regard to why I want to write, what I want to reveal of my thoughts, and just how honest I want to or should be. I have this idea, or perhaps it really is a compulsion, that I want to witness what is going on in my internal life. I know that may sound a little crazy and a little more than a touch arrogant. What gives me the confidence and self belief to go on with this foolish idea. For one thing I no longer fear opening myself up to ridicule, albeit a little daunting, and really I can’t see that I have anything to be self-satisfied about. I am not super intelligent, nor super talented, and certainly have never been super good at anything I have taken on, therefore no super good achievements in this lifetime, and that includes not being a super good mother or wife, and in all the other relationships that exist in my world. I am an ordinary person in an extraordinary world. What I ‘witness’ though may just be of some interest, if not of useful purpose, to help someone else know that they are not crazy. That would be nice.
I sense that a ‘big change’ is happening, a really big multi-dimensional change all around the world, words that have been rolling off my tongue for a few years now as though there was no tomorrow! It was my greater generation that proclaimed the dawning of The Age of Aquarius. Most of us got a little tired of waiting!
When I first started writing, a compulsion that started the first day of the first New Year after Elle died, I had no idea that I was setting off on a journey that was going to give purpose to my life. Obviously not to take away from the purpose that exists in continuing to be a mom, a wife, a sister, a grandmother and a friend, but that inner meaning that makes all else matter. The book I completed a while back, and a few days after the first anniversary of Elle’s death, now seems to me to be naïve, but beautifully so, and equally has provided me with so many new beginnings or starting points, and a multitude of ‘dots’ and memories that will never allow my ink well to go dry.
In my book, Good Grief: Take Me by the Hand, I wrote about an instant in the middle of a Pilates class, as I glanced up at my own image in the mirror wall ahead of me. While it was a short moment it was also a big realisation; that our bodies are truly temples, and everything we need to know is contained within us, a saying that we are all familiar with. Now I feel able to take that moment a little further, and it is because of the fact that ‘in quantum physics all particles are connected to all others and to every observer in the universe’. Another way of saying the same thing is that science encourages us to view spacetime as a web or lattice, and physicists seem to be intimating that they are close to arriving at the equation that Einstein longed to complete before he died – a theory of everything, or a unified field theory. This lattice or net can also be described more poetically as:
“… there is a wonderful net which has been hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer has hung a single glittering jewel in each ‘eye’ of the net, and since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number. There hang the jewels, glittering like stars in the first magnitude, a wonderful sight to behold. If we now arbitrarily select one of these jewels for inspection and look closely at it, we will discover that in its polished surface there are reflected all the other jewels in the net, infinite in number. Not only that, but each of the jewels reflected in this one jewel is also reflecting all the other jewels, so that there is an infinite reflecting process occurring.”
This is a translation of a quote that comes out of the Huayan or Flower Garland school of Buddhism, and the earliest texts seem to date back to around the second century AD, and is a description of the Web of Indra. I took out the first line as that would have placed it into mythical times – Far away in the heavenly abode of the great god Indra… I can’t see the difference between what was said then and how the vision of the unified field in physics is described today. Each of the jewels in Indira’s Web is thought to be a soul. This really appeals to me, and is not original to me, but I often wrote in my book of seeing us as diamonds, jewels of light, and that we come to earth with one or more particular facets to polish through each lifetime. I love lingering over the idea that wisdom will land in our laps as and when a facet is polished enough to capture those all-important reflections from all the other jewels around us.
Everything we need to know is contained within every one of us, and this is where another commonly repeated phrase comes into its own – we are connected to everything and everyone in the universe – so whatever knowledge is out there is also within us all. One could even say that going to temple, or church, or any sacred space can be equated with the journey of going within, in order to learn about ‘everything’.
What actually got me writing this early morning was being ‘awoken’, or rather, being first in a state of semi-lucidity, as if someone was knocking on my door until I fully awoke. I may well have said that this happens to me quite a lot. Up until about two years ago I was unable to recognise these moments for what they are, as I have no doubt that they have always been happening to me and every single person who has ever existed. Dreams I knew about a very long time ago, but that there was communication that I could tap into constantly flowing through and around my mind would have been something I only associated with mental illness, for example, schizophrenia.
This morning it was a square image in my mind’s eye that was dragging me out of sleep. It felt unreadable yet familiar, and seemed to contain a focal point. I felt like I was being pushed to recognise it, but no matter how hard I tried I could not couple it with anything else I had ever seen. I made a mental note of the image and hoped to remember it in the morning, but after switching off the light, I thought it best to make sure I did so promptly wrote it up in my notebook. I was keen to return to sleep as I was looking ahead at a busy day, but then……an interpretation started evolving! And that was it – I wasn’t going to be able to sleep……so here I am.
My first thought was that it was an image of a race, why I have no idea, but I commented to myself that it felt more like a marathon. But then a correction came through – it was an image of a journey, my journey, which was identical to everyone else’s, and this was just a detail of it. It was starting to become recognisable. What I saw was a tight grid-like pattern of dots, and I realised that these were probably those same dots that I began joining up after Elle died, but this was not the picture I expected them to reveal. It certainly and strangely was informing me as much as any picture could have, and brought together all my thinking over the last couple of years into a neat square package. It is all I am to be shown, and yes, the dots are certainly connected, and yes, this is only a detail of the infinite universe – an infinite number of dots! I must do a painting of it, and why I mention this fact is that, while thinking about it, I thought I might paint a dot for every day that I have lived, or journeyed through life. It has just struck me that the word ‘journey’ if one looks at the first syllable, ‘jour’, is French for ‘day’. My inclination to investigate moments of synchronicity drove me to look up the derivation of the word, journey, and it travelled from Latin to French to Middle English, and comes from ‘a day’s travel, or a day’s work’. Sweet! Perhaps the reason for its original familiarity is because about three years ago I bought a painting from my friend, Christina, which is purely a series of tiny coloured dots in a grid formation. We have been through a lot of our exploratory travels side by side. Even deeper synchronity as far as I am concerned.
To round off my morning’s thoughts, the following works well as follow-up thinking that was originally following up on leads that coincidently lead back to this morning’s thoughts. Follow that if you can!
Last night before going to sleep I was trying to find, somewhere on the vast network that is Google, a story I first heard somewhere back ten to fifteen years. I had watched a documentary about an indigenous tribe who continue to live high up in the Andes Mountains of South America, and how concerned they were becoming about climate change that had begun to impact their crops because the rains were less predictable and more infrequent. It ‘told’ them that something was going wrong with the outside world. They had consciously eschewed all contact with the ‘developed’ world, although they had always been aware of us. (I assume that their knowledge of us was transmuted through the unified field, or perhaps the wonderful Web of Indra!) Because of this worrying development they had decided to allow a young tribal member of their choosing to be taught the language of the outside world so that he could convey their concerns to us, and to tell us that we need to change our ways. He told us also the story of who we are. We are ‘little brother who decided to leave the tribe and its eternal ways, and venture off on a journey, but that some day he would choose to return’. (I can see that it would benefit us to ‘return to learn’ because there is no doubt in my mind that they are our superiors, as are most indigenous tribes who have maintained their close association with the feminine spirit of nature.) They have never felt uneducated or inferior to us, but equally their humility has also always kept them compassionate towards ‘little brother’. I couldn’t find what I was looking for (keywords weren’t working for me) on Google but I think I am remembering the gist of it correctly. I have been thinking about this ‘little brother’ story over the last couple of days, and then it struck me – ever since Orwell wrote his book, 1984, we have been concerned with Big Brother watching us. And where do we imagine this Big Brother to be hiding? Well, everywhere, behind everything, and now even in the massive almost AI brain as represented by Google, the very place I was looking for answers. Again very interesting to me is that a ‘true and benign Big Brother’ has been watching us all the time, and not just of late. We would do well to find this tribe and try to learn all we have forgotten from them, instead of watching stupid programmes on TV called Big Brother. Oh, we of little faith – another meaningful saying!
Now that I have found the courage to be more honest in what I want to write about, or rather, not hide what I really wish to say behind some silly coding, I will return to blog another day.
very interesting and thought provoking … as ever xx
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thanks Jenny – at least I always know that you will read it – but I just love writing it xxx
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