...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )
I was thinking about the Cleveland Five, the young men who were led astray and attempted to damage a bridge. I’ve been musing about bridges and the affection I feel for them and what this means in the context of my sadness over the situation of the Cleveland Five.
Bridges are powerful. In a physical sense, it is a very notable thing when a bridge is built to connect one side of a city to another, one community to another.
Sometimes they’re controversial, like bridges that have been built over neighborhoods, eliminating some existing housing, erecting a physical barrier in the neighborhood. But that’s not where I’m going with this. I’m interested today in the positive aspects of bridges. I’m interested in bridges that connect.
So there are bridges that connect such that we are one world, one peace, such that we know we are one piece of world. These bridges go all around the world. You can always find a bridge by just watching a video and learning about the beauty of another culture:
And there are bridges between the material world and the mind of God (however you define It, God/Goddess/Reality/Interconnectedness)… bridges that make God more perceptible to us, like praying, just meditating and perhaps talking to God, thinking about God, doing something good, appreciating reality.
There are bridges that connect you to me, family member to family member–the bridge of communication is one of the best bridges of all. There’s also the bridge of example, but it is very good to be able to communicate respectfully and hopefully joyfully with each other. It’s a good thing to be able communicate well as a mature adult, although I wouldn’t say that just because one doesn’t communicate well doesn’t mean that they are not mature. It’s just that, well, it helps a lot. And although although it hasn’t been very prevalent in modern life, I think that with social media, it is becoming more so, and that all people are really starting to wake up, look around, see what they are doing and not doing, and adjust accordingly.
Having this false teeth chunk of intrusive plastic in my mouth every waking hour makes me wonder how horses feel about being ridden with a metal bit forced into their mouths which is pulled and jerked to turn or stop. Can’t be pleasant.
Man(un)kind certainly places thoughtless burdens on the animals, plants, and earth surrounding us
The view changes when one walks in their paws/hoofs/feet.
(Just for clarity, the “beasts” in the poem refers to humans, not the rational animals).
Such cunning, these beasts.
By pruning Heaven
they’ve stilled the old wild yeasts.
Yet in breeding unleavened
seed such sheetings of grief
shat out uneven
o’er poor human paste
that all dogs believing
rise lonely, and weak.
These acids know weakness.
Know mercy for grief
or inherent meekness
these semen stained sheets.
Keeps meat on its knees
and power unaided
or tree on the leaf
and tragic the shaman.
Thich Nhat Hanh keeps coming to mind. I would like to write something fresh and encouraging and good and entertaining for my weekly walkingthinice.com blog. My state of mind is such that I am not sure if I am in the right or wrong by not doing a particular project. Sometimes I think that rightness depends partially on the process one goes through to do the particular thing that is being evaluated as being right or wrong. There’s a kind of hysteresis to many processes.
Another thing that comes to mind is that I am holding a bunch of concepts in my mental hands, my buffer, and sometimes the concepts slide in and around each other when I don’t mean for them to. At least sometimes it produces good and meaningful results anyways.
But I’m holding these concepts in my “hands” and I sigh. How do I explain it? I am a multi-threaded process?
Which reminds me of semaphores. I am not very familiar with the word but have used the concept in programming. The word “semaphore” keeps on occurring to my mind the past two weeks. Wikipedia says “In computer science, a semaphore is a variable or abstract data type that provides a simple but useful abstraction for controlling access by multiple processes to a common resource in a parallel programming or multi user environment.”
Reality is providing me with clues–Thich Nhat Hanh and semaphores.
I have been thinking for a long time about my brain and the knowledge that is made available to me, and wondering how much of it is stored locally in my brain tissue versus how much is encoded on a quantum level elsewhere and can float in to me. I really don’t believe that I am limited by skin anymore.
How much is steeping, and how much can be compartmentalized, made distinct? When I sit in a room it is like steeping in the room, and the attributes of the room become available to me. When I invest in a group of smart people, I become smart in the topic of their specialty, although sometimes this takes time. Or if I watch a violent movie, the movie impresses itself on me and my subsequent reality in a way that I don’t like unless I somehow negotiate the situation well. Thich Nhat Hanh says to consume mindfully and that one benefits by not watching violent media.
I have a toolset, a mental toolset that I use to negotiate and navigate reality. It is still in development, but it works somewhat. I’ve got a mirror in my toolset–that’s for sure. I have my computer–my computer is a good tool for my toolset. And I have my notepad. Oh, I’ve got Spotify. And I’ve got praying, and I’ve got meditation. I have my word.
There’s what I already have, and there’s what I would like to add to the toolset or know that I already have anyways. I would like some capacitors and filters and transformers and transistors. I would like seeds, especially heirloom seeds–I’d like to be an aunt and I would like to make sure that my nieces and nephews and my family (everyone is my family) has good food to eat, and their descendants for as long as the Mother Earth will do it, and that Mother Earth will do this for quite a long time. I would like the future in my toolbox, the good future. I would like Nature and Civilization coexisting wonderfully forever. And the good present. And compassion towards the past.
I would like to plunk parts of the set onto the template with the understanding that the set is very large, and that what I plunk onto it might not always be pithy. I would like to plunk pieces of the puzzle onto it, the n-dimensional puzzle such that reality can interpolate gently, understand with compassion, extrapolate beautifully, and coat irritants in metaphorical pearl to remove any harm without harming that which has irritated. I would like language to be useful but for those who don’t have precise voices to not be limited by lack of technical know-how; I would like for every good impulse to be augmented and every not so good impulse to be transformed or damped.
I am not sure if this relates to your particular threads of reality or not, but it is some helpful stuff for me, and I share it with the caveat that I wish for you to explicitly wish to “do no harm,” but even if this seems silly, I wish for it to not cause harm regardless, and rather, to cause blessings.