Levels Of Magnification

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” ~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

It seems to me, at times, that people go around like drones and sometimes I like to pretend I am an alien researcher, stationed at Earth Planet gathering information on the holodeck (yes, holodeck, for often I have trouble convinced by my eyes as they are limited and handicapped and tend to hallucinate strange indoctrinations installed by too much time among the civilized and its bureaucracies and categorizations. And demand of identification-may-I-see-your-papers-please? No, it does not, but as long as we are pretending let us run with it, whaddaya say, eh?). Sometimes, when my mind is set to receive I hear/see snippets of their lives, they occur like intrinsic conversations, save it is not me speaking. Reading people can be interesting. It can be easy, as a matter of taking notice. This man wears a gold band round his middle finger on his left hand: he is married. That she is absent conjures many questions only he holds the answer. The bag on his shoulder holds a bible, a folder and some stapled papers, and a highlighter. He is probably a priest at some local church. More questions. The salad and healthy drink says that he is minding his weight or dieting (as his body is not muscular or lean, we can rule out that he a food connoisseur of sorts or that he is a health nut. He was probably once fatter—his arms are a bit flabby—or perhaps he does not want to become fat). The lines and sag of his face says that he is 45-50 years old. Has he been a priest long? His manner is odd; I cannot quite place the word that describes his peculiar movements. The way he lays out his food, picks up his fork, fixes his chair, reaches for his drink, something, but I’m not sure. Is he angry? Is he upset? Is he burdened? Did he have to come up quickly with a sermon to replace someone else? Is there something on his mind that his sermon cleverly (maybe passive-aggressively) covers?

“All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sometimes, the snippets—so like Dreamtime or daydreaming or time travelling—reveal the answers or just how a moment was prior to or after this moment. How could that be true? If I see a leaf on a tree and the fractal does not end at its tip (for at what point does the fractal terminate? Where, pray tell, does the fractal end and the air (space) begin? At what level of magnification are the ‘two’ divided? When does the wave stop waving?) when does this moment end and the other begin? When does his existence divide mine? When does knowing begin and end? Where is the line that severs space and time and precludes seeing? If we exist, then walls and the illusion of distance do not separate our lives. Consequently, he is an ‘open book’. Are not all of us in some way? Are we not unlike the leaves of the tree? If one alters the level of magnification, one’s mind can peer into the aftermoment like looking through a portal. Doubtful? Perhaps; consider this: waveforms do not end (lest you take this for an absolute statement, I tell you it is not), so then neither does experience.

“All experience is an arch, to build upon.” ~Henry B. Adams

“Every moment is an experience.” ~Jake Roberts

Experience continues as long as light travels (and light is but a waveform). If I can see the light, that moment is Dreamtime; I can “hear” snippets of any experience. It is simply a matter of tuning in to the right frequency, no? Why is it easy to accept the radio or television, yet not the idea of Dreamtime?

What do you think the brain is?

“Experience comprises illusions lost, rather than wisdom gained.” ~Joseph Roux


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