The Big Picture
The theme of the day were boredom, depression, and laziness. These feelings haunted me all day long, like old ghosts who couldn't give up their souls to death. Life seems to be going nowhere, stuck in the moment. My life, at least. For other people's, it seemed as if they were in other parallel realities, other dimensions. For mine, the reality, the dimension, for the time being, were defined by the aforementioned ghosts.
But moments of clarity, moments where suddenly what you feel is irrelevant, moments where suddenly you're seeing yourself from the third person perspective, moments where who and what you are is nothing compared to the Big Picture, could strike you at the most unexpected time. Moments like these bring me relief. So it was such a shame that these moments went away too soon. I wanted so very much to savour the moment, yet it went away, like leaves blown by the wind. Such is the beauty of life.
Some would argue that it is only a matter of perspective. If one could detach oneself from one's ego, from one's selfishness, from one's persona, one would find oneself in a state of objectivity, a state of calmness, a state where daily worries are irrelevant to oneself, like a speck of dust. Some wise ones may have call this state 'enlightenment'. I had heard that it was named 'enlightenment' not because one is 'enlightened' by a ray of light, but it was called 'enlightenment' because one is lifted from the burden of being oneself. From one's own ego, one's own selfishness, one's own mask. From one's own persona.
But such a state is, as a matter of course, hard to attain. For if it could be attained as easy as flicking a finger, then this world would be crawling with holy ones, wise men. And such thing, if I may be so bold to say, is an impossibility. A few wise ones, possible. But all of us, being at a higher state of consciousness, is an impossibility.
Thoughts such as these, come to me at my most boring of moments. There may be a handful of reasons why, and there may be a handful of perspectives as to how I could discuss about them, about the boring moments, and about the thoughts that come into mind, and about how the connect with each other. I suspect that is why I fear being alone, because these thoughts come rushing in when the babble of noises from the outside world die and the Silence took hold of my mind. I fear because such thoughts, uncontrolled, could drive me mad.
But the least I could do, is to pour it out into writings. What I put here, may have been said by so many wise men, and at so many instances. in other words, not original. But knowledge and wisdom, they need to be passed on. They need to be told and retold. For they are also living beings. Living, procreating, evolving, dying, in the human minds. Passed on from generations to generations by means of teachings, rearings, educatings, word of mouths, the internet, and so many other ways. I recalled a video game that mentioned that humans, realizing or not realizing it, has created a new species, a new life form in this world. It is called by so many names, but one name people would recognize, it is 'information'.
And so, bear with me, as I tell you many things. Things about my life and life in general (or at least, life in general in my own perspective). Things that need to be told, things that may be trivial, or things that may be very important, depending on one's perspective. You may learn a thing or two from it, or you may not learn anything at all. But like the organic being, even information has to go through natural selection, a selection that occur in one's own mind when one decided whether to assimilate the information in his mind or not. Nevertheless, the information has been passed on. And that is what matters.
And so, why is is that one could not easily attain a higher state of consciousness? I would propose that it is because one could not easily let go of one's sense of who oneself is. How do a person define his or her sense of self? How do a person define who he or she is? Is it by looking at one's parents? One's children? One's family? One's race? One's language? One's culture? One's nationality? One's academic achievements? One's career achievements? One's wealth? One's hobbies? I would argue that these things are the essence of how our modern society defines itself. However, take these things away, and I would say that there's nothing left one could define oneself with. And I daresay that one is scared of taking off these defining dimensions from oneself. Because when all of these things are stripped from oneself, then one would be a Nobody. A No one. Nothing. Insignificant. I could not say this is a common thing. All I could say is that, I would be scared if I have none of these.
So must I say, reaching a higher state of consciousness, or shall I say becoming holy, is not to be. Not to be oneself. However, I have no right to claim that I have been there. For right now I'm only theorizing, only hypothesizing. Retelling words that have been retold so many times. Words that are not mine alone.
Like all opinions and arguments, there is no such thing as complete and perfect objectivity. The words uttered in this writing are mine. Spoken through the perspective that is me. And even these words are not original, as I have mentioned before. These words I may have read from books, heard from other people's mouths, glimpsed from other people's minds. And yet there is a strong urge to tell, to spread the words, in one form or another. To me, it is like reaching out, trying to find other people, other minds. I am, above all else, lonely.
People may have the same religions. People may claim to have the same faiths. And yet, I would say that no one believe in the same thing. No one has the same, identical faith. And no one could claim that other has the same faith as one does. For even one's life is a Holy Book in itself, different in experiences and nuances. Due to the aforementioned difference in perspective, so one must learn from his own Book. Forcing one's believes toward others, in my opinion, is unacceptable. However, I must acknowledge that sometimes, being unique and different is a very lonely thing. And we would sometimes feel relief when we could find someone who could understand, who could relate to us.
Midnight strikes, and thus I must close this session. For my eyes are starting to feel heavy, and a book is calling me back to turn its pages toward the inevitable end. I would like to say thank you to those who stayed until the end with me, for my rambling might have brought you feelings of distressed, depression, boredom and alas, futility. However, I hope that, in some wicked way, you were entertained. That you may have learned some new wisdoms, or be reminded by old ones. Nevertheless, the information has been passed. And it is now up to natural selection to do it's job. In your minds.
The theme of the day were boredom, depression, and laziness. These feelings haunted me all day long, like old ghosts who couldn't give up their souls to death. Life seems to be going nowhere, stuck in the moment. My life, at least. For other people's, it seemed as if they were in other parallel realities, other dimensions. For mine, the reality, the dimension, for the time being, were defined by the aforementioned ghosts.
But moments of clarity, moments where suddenly what you feel is irrelevant, moments where suddenly you're seeing yourself from the third person perspective, moments where who and what you are is nothing compared to the Big Picture, could strike you at the most unexpected time. Moments like these bring me relief. So it was such a shame that these moments went away too soon. I wanted so very much to savour the moment, yet it went away, like leaves blown by the wind. Such is the beauty of life.
Some would argue that it is only a matter of perspective. If one could detach oneself from one's ego, from one's selfishness, from one's persona, one would find oneself in a state of objectivity, a state of calmness, a state where daily worries are irrelevant to oneself, like a speck of dust. Some wise ones may have call this state 'enlightenment'. I had heard that it was named 'enlightenment' not because one is 'enlightened' by a ray of light, but it was called 'enlightenment' because one is lifted from the burden of being oneself. From one's own ego, one's own selfishness, one's own mask. From one's own persona.
But such a state is, as a matter of course, hard to attain. For if it could be attained as easy as flicking a finger, then this world would be crawling with holy ones, wise men. And such thing, if I may be so bold to say, is an impossibility. A few wise ones, possible. But all of us, being at a higher state of consciousness, is an impossibility.
Thoughts such as these, come to me at my most boring of moments. There may be a handful of reasons why, and there may be a handful of perspectives as to how I could discuss about them, about the boring moments, and about the thoughts that come into mind, and about how the connect with each other. I suspect that is why I fear being alone, because these thoughts come rushing in when the babble of noises from the outside world die and the Silence took hold of my mind. I fear because such thoughts, uncontrolled, could drive me mad.
But the least I could do, is to pour it out into writings. What I put here, may have been said by so many wise men, and at so many instances. in other words, not original. But knowledge and wisdom, they need to be passed on. They need to be told and retold. For they are also living beings. Living, procreating, evolving, dying, in the human minds. Passed on from generations to generations by means of teachings, rearings, educatings, word of mouths, the internet, and so many other ways. I recalled a video game that mentioned that humans, realizing or not realizing it, has created a new species, a new life form in this world. It is called by so many names, but one name people would recognize, it is 'information'.
And so, bear with me, as I tell you many things. Things about my life and life in general (or at least, life in general in my own perspective). Things that need to be told, things that may be trivial, or things that may be very important, depending on one's perspective. You may learn a thing or two from it, or you may not learn anything at all. But like the organic being, even information has to go through natural selection, a selection that occur in one's own mind when one decided whether to assimilate the information in his mind or not. Nevertheless, the information has been passed on. And that is what matters.
And so, why is is that one could not easily attain a higher state of consciousness? I would propose that it is because one could not easily let go of one's sense of who oneself is. How do a person define his or her sense of self? How do a person define who he or she is? Is it by looking at one's parents? One's children? One's family? One's race? One's language? One's culture? One's nationality? One's academic achievements? One's career achievements? One's wealth? One's hobbies? I would argue that these things are the essence of how our modern society defines itself. However, take these things away, and I would say that there's nothing left one could define oneself with. And I daresay that one is scared of taking off these defining dimensions from oneself. Because when all of these things are stripped from oneself, then one would be a Nobody. A No one. Nothing. Insignificant. I could not say this is a common thing. All I could say is that, I would be scared if I have none of these.
So must I say, reaching a higher state of consciousness, or shall I say becoming holy, is not to be. Not to be oneself. However, I have no right to claim that I have been there. For right now I'm only theorizing, only hypothesizing. Retelling words that have been retold so many times. Words that are not mine alone.
Like all opinions and arguments, there is no such thing as complete and perfect objectivity. The words uttered in this writing are mine. Spoken through the perspective that is me. And even these words are not original, as I have mentioned before. These words I may have read from books, heard from other people's mouths, glimpsed from other people's minds. And yet there is a strong urge to tell, to spread the words, in one form or another. To me, it is like reaching out, trying to find other people, other minds. I am, above all else, lonely.
People may have the same religions. People may claim to have the same faiths. And yet, I would say that no one believe in the same thing. No one has the same, identical faith. And no one could claim that other has the same faith as one does. For even one's life is a Holy Book in itself, different in experiences and nuances. Due to the aforementioned difference in perspective, so one must learn from his own Book. Forcing one's believes toward others, in my opinion, is unacceptable. However, I must acknowledge that sometimes, being unique and different is a very lonely thing. And we would sometimes feel relief when we could find someone who could understand, who could relate to us.
Midnight strikes, and thus I must close this session. For my eyes are starting to feel heavy, and a book is calling me back to turn its pages toward the inevitable end. I would like to say thank you to those who stayed until the end with me, for my rambling might have brought you feelings of distressed, depression, boredom and alas, futility. However, I hope that, in some wicked way, you were entertained. That you may have learned some new wisdoms, or be reminded by old ones. Nevertheless, the information has been passed. And it is now up to natural selection to do it's job. In your minds.
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