It Feels So Good

to write. Bob Dylan coming softly through the speakers, a cat napping gently in the early hours of a London morning, and me interrupting it with the sounds of keyboard clicks and thoughts manifesting themselves. I am extremely comfortable here.

I have been in London for five days now, and, somehow, I’ve already managed to find a kind of equilibrium with the world around me that reveals itself in the smile of an existence hell-bent on fully existing.

I’ve been watching the wheel of time as it moves here. You see, I’m visiting friends, but that’s not exactly accurate. I’m visiting a part of my heart? No. I’m visiting a part of myself that is external to me. That’s probably closest, but the exactitude I’m looking for doesn’t actually exist. The reality of my situation is thus: after leaving Korea, I am staying at a girl’s house that I met in Australia. She is married. She is married to a friend of mine that I met in high school. She is Italian and studying to be a doctor in London. My friend has just entered a biodynamic farming school under the tutelage of students of the Rudolf Steiner Anthroposophy. They met in New York City when she came to visit me. I watched them fall in love.

The sheer number of things that had to come together to make this thing even a remote possibility numbs my mind, but here I am inside it and writing about it, which feels good, and I’m simply enjoying the reality of being inside something that smacks of significance. These things don’t just happen. These things are uncommon. As a matter of fact, as I was explicating my theory that it feels like we are all moving towards something even greater (she and he and I and another and his significant other), she said to me, “But you also make that decision.” Hell yes we do. Somewhere along the line you have to look at your situation, realize it’s unique, and seek to find a way to perpetuate the uniqueness almost indefinitely. This is difficult thing to do, especially when you understand the nature of time and space, because all things change and pass away. Nothing is truly static. However, there has to be a way to incorporate that reality into the nature of the thing that you’re trying to develop, and when it is genuinely incorporated, what’s to stop you from metaphorically ruling the world? (Even if it is only your small chunk of the world.)

Ah, well, we’re wandering into spaces that can’t be comprehended right there and it’s probably best if we reign everything in and start talking about the whats and hows of the present, huh?

I am unemployed again, and feeling like the universe is waiting for something, somewhere, to send me to the most appropriate place. I have discovered that in my life there is only so much control I can exert over my reality. At one level this seems like a bit of a bummer because everybody wants to believe that they can control their reality; however, the fact of the matter is that because man is a social being, there is only so much control that he can exert over his reality. He can desire. He can yearn. But, most of the time, he will always find himself at the whims of others. Even your super-wealthy aristocrats are reliant on those they would oppress. Without the lower classes, your quantity of money would be worthless. That’s a bit abstract, to be sure, but any time you’re dealing with money you’re dealing with metaphorical value, never actual value.

I wonder if anybody has ever considered that money is a little bit like language? Surely somewhere along the line has looked at money and decided that this bit of money is sufficient to describe my desire to purchase this object, much as this word is sufficient to describe this thing or this desire. Money would have to be a derivative of language. It has the same structure.

Speaking of structures (and I fully realize that this post is bordering on SUPER-random, but we’re dealing with consciousness diarrhea right now), I have been thinking about how the generally three-fold structure of existence that I have heretofore acknowledged might have a fourth-fold. All right, it comes from Heidegger, and that’s as it may be, but when we look at it objectively without the hullabaloo surrounding him, he might be onto something really important. The structure of human reality as I have previously said it to be is generally something in the realm of the mind and the body and the spirit. These are just terms and you can just as easily substitute consciousness, physicality, and spirit. I found that I generally found that I would then have to mention that consciousness is then split into the general consciousness of sensual awareness and the sub-conscious of body and mind processes that we don’t “think” about. Heidegger cleared this up for me with his development of the four-fold: earth and sky and mortals and divinities. Mortals would be the physical. This is our body. We die. That’s a part of it all. The earth and the sky are the two levels of consciousness. We are always on the earth. We are always inside a world of sensual awareness. However, we are also always under the sky, and this is something we forget. In other words, we are always inside the world of consciousness, but we are also under the rule of a sub-consciousness that is there but generally forgotten about. The divinities would be the world of the spiritual that is clearly undeniable in existence.

I will say it clearly, right here, right now:

I don’t like religion. Attempting to regulate something so organic is akin to the travesty that is Genetic Engineering in plants. I know that cloning and genetic engineering is abhorrent to most of the religious community, but when I look at what they’re doing to the spirit, it’s largely the same but in a different realm, engineering something to fit around something they can’t understand, when they ought to allow themselves to not understand.

All that being said, I see the spirit of the universe in almost everything when you take the time to notice it. The other day, walking around a farm, I saw a patch of five flowers that had sprouted up out of the ground. It wasn’t a garden. It was surrounded by grass all over the place, but there were these five flowers that decided they would grow right there and bugger all those that told them otherwise. That meant something to me. That seemed to wreak of the spiritual. Today, I’m going to walk the south bank of the Thames and visit the Globe Theatre, a spiritual quest for me to be sure.