The room glowed orange. And LOVE. A wooden carving of the word sat against the wall in my room, opposite my meditation cushion, on top of a painting of my favourite tree (the letters light up if I really want them to. I very rarely want them to.)
I’ve become increasingly frustrated with words and their inability to capture and express the absolute truth of the concepts they frame. Love is one of the best examples of that, for me.
Love, for instance, is on a spectrum, for starters. There are differing types of love, differing levels of depth, differing levels of understanding of it as a concept, differing levels of experience with it.
And here is the problem I have: LOVE, the word, is far too small.
It is too small to capture
the vast ocean
So I get a little frustrated.
Words, in general, are a little frustrating to me, because even people we share a language with will never know the exact meaning of a word according to our perception and expression of it.
An example. I experienced the most profound moment the other day, when discussing some things with my beautiful, spiritual counsellor. She is trying to help me work through some of my energy blocks, at the moment, but as we discussed a particular topic I found myself fumbling. I knew exactly why.
Words. They were vastly limiting us in a few ways: one way being our different perception of particular words (it seemed we weren’t quite on the same page). Another being the energy beneath the concept I was trying to express. The whole thing seemed far bigger than any means of communication we had in our toolbox to discuss it with. It was as if we were trying to catch a whale with a plastic fishing rod. It was just never going to happen.
I even said to her that I felt so frustrated because I couldn’t possibly express the depth of what I was trying to convey to her in words. This was a feeling. But it was also something so much more than a feeling.
I don’t need to capture the entire universe and express it in form. But if I did…words couldn’t possibly reach the heights I’d need to climb to pick that apple.
It has been fourteen days and the wind has brought me here.
What happened was quite accidental (but then, is anything ever accidental in the universe?) Rather than my plan expiring as I thought it was going to (for reasons long and complicated) it has rolled over for another year.
For a moment, when the ghastly realisation was made, I thought to approach wordpress and tell them, ‘Thank you, but I’m done, here.’
I never did do that. I never did pick up the phone.
I put this down to orders of the wind. The sway of the universe whispering me to stay just a little while longer. So, here I am, writing these words–half wondering why, half quite sure that there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
Why is it that there are so many segments of us, and why is it that not all segments of us want equally?
Some pieces of me want to be heard, to be known, to be understood and validated by like minded souls who feel a little like they’re swimming around in the ever spinning washing machine of life. Other parts of me want to hide. To never be seen. To only be known by the quiet that surrounds me, the quiet that I am.
I know I must write to experience myself truly.
I know I must create in order to find home.
What else do I know?
I know I’ll always be asking questions that make me feel a little lonely.
I know I’ll always think I know the answers until I, once and for all, understand that there is no one answer. Only the next question, the next step, the next choice.
Well. Isn’t the world in an interesting state. That’s more of a statement, rather than a question, really, isn’t it: hence the absence of a question mark.
I’ve been wondering if perhaps humanity, as a collective, might be going through the same sort of life stage as me. Sifting through all the nonsense, trying to figure out which pieces to keep, and which pieces to shiny up and multiply. Trying to figure it all out, really, and will we? Can life be figured out? What actually is a state of figured out? I don’t think any of us knows, which is probably why we’re all in a bit of a collective pickle stew, at the moment.
It interests me to no end, this state we find ourselves in: us versus them, such massive divides, each heart believing their own is the ultimate truth. It’s fascinating because it has me asking questions I really don’t think can be answered in a black and white sort of way. Where once I would have declared a certain type of opinion ‘wrong’, a certain type of person ‘wrong’, I’m finding it impossible to do so, these days.
How can one side say the other is wrong entirely when there is a fifty- fifty split in opinion: half believing one thing, the other half believing another? It makes me wonder if people might open up to the grand possibility that, perhaps, no one is right.
Perhaps we all just are.
Sometimes pleasant experiences arise from us simply being as we are.
And sometimes complete and utter chaos reigns, and quite frankly, disturbs a great deal of the beautiful many of us so cherish about life here on earth. Perhaps it’s a little like a bush fire. In order to see those beautiful new sprouts of green peeping through the forest floor, first the old trees must burn.
I’m a bit of a nerd If you’d like to give that particular invisible stream of ‘me-ness’ a name.
My brain works in weird and wonderful ways (like all of our brains do). Perhaps, though, I glorify the magnificence of the human condition a little more than most— I can admit to that much.
I’ve never really understood why humans aren’t more fascinated by the wonder that is these truly magnificent bodies we’re built into.
How they can break, and heal, as if by magic.
How they can mix ingredients (male and female) to induce a process of growth and birth so miraculous it’s incomprehensible how any human has actually existed, ever.
How the light in my eyes can tell you how in love with you I really am, and how my words do not have to tell you a thing about the way that particular love feels inside of my body.
Anyway, I know:
I’m a bit of a nerd.
But don’t you guys think it is ALL so TRULY AMAZING?
I sure do, and that’s just the human body parts of it all.
I’ve just read a blog post that made me dig a little into the way I feel about all this human-ness at a deeper level, particularly the way I feel about the ‘invisible’ things of life.
Love (or any emotion, really).
It all lives in the sea of nothing and everything, doesn’t it?
Energy. Nothing and everything.
My Dad always used to throw out this line—and laugh at his own hilarity, actually, as I often laugh at my own. I completely blame him. For that, and for my large selection of ‘funny but not really funny’ jokes.
Anyway, the line he used to toss out there was ‘time is an abstract concept.’
At the time (ha ha ha :P) —I was somewhere between eight and thirteen, I’d imagine— I looked at him, eyebrow raised. What on earth was he going on about? Time wasn’t abstract. Time was clearly time.
Part of me agrees still, that time is a very real thing.
There is a clock up there. Today is Saturday.
But is there really ‘time’ because there is a clock up there?
And is it really Saturday, guys?
And am I, indeed, ‘a nerd’? (Wink)
I’ll be back tomorrow with some more waffling, I think.