Where Would We Find Ourselves?

What is it that drives Men mad? What is it that becomes so unsettling that our very foundation shakes and crumbles giving way to anxious desire? What is it that determines our fate, our fortunes along with such tales of woe that we become enraptured by the greatness of our own imagination?

What is it that motivates us when we are not looking?

Many times awareness can be such a tricky thing to describe as the reference point becomes lost along the way. Determining our own fate we create. But from out of what does creation transpire? In going from here to there we move. In changing course the Ship of Fools eventually winds up right back where it started. You see, once the change occurs it continues until such time as the light bulb turns on and when it does little do we realize that we have turned it on for ourselves. This is no great feat of magic or otherwise but simply habitual repetition of that which we have always done. Perhaps it is the boredom which has long been set or perhaps it is the anxiety of circular logic presenting itself for our own amusement. Indeed we make our own fun.

But entertainment can only get us so far along the tracks of time and space. In self congratulatory terms we rule the universe mistaking that others are for us to do with as we please. While it is true that we have created realty just for our own pleasure this does not mean that the difference between right and wrong is but the blowing of our whim across the land of perception. As this is a connected universe all happens in relation.

All that happens, happens in relation to all that is.

If one cannot find the pieces of the puzzle then the puzzle remains incomplete and mysterious. Into the unknown abyss thought dives deeply and pulls up so much more than a rubber tire on the end of it's hook of acquisition. But how does one acquire that which one creates?

In the separation of Man and machine the hair's breath of reality plunges us all into the abyss of ignorance. One must pay attention or else despite the efforts of all the kings men no one shall be able to put us back together again - for there is no 'again'. Being whole and complete is but a sign of the times and as the times rock on by attention becomes splattered all across the Universe. It doesn't matter where or when it's just the point of doing it. Is it possible to loose track of ourselves?

Can one create and fall in love with that creation to such a degree that it becomes all that there is? Have we become so self-inflicted with the honorable notion that there is nothing better than the one? Yes, there is the One and in this Universe there is only the One. As a matter of fact in any universe there is always the One. That which binds all, that from which all springs forth is the Well of Life.

In fanciful delight we tend to roam and moan all across the universe looking and seeking for that which we have emptied from our Hearts. From lack we find the desire for need. Perhaps the relation is not in the searching but in the realizing that in our full-ness there is nothing sacred, there is nothing which we can or cannot do. But can one become something other than what one really is? In imagination all is possible. In imagination all takes place. Without the mechanism of thought where would we find ourselves?

Now that is something to ponder...

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