Thursday, September 06, 2012

Essay On Change

The feeling begins before anything happens. It's a mindset that colors every word and interpretation. In a good mood, a clear mood, I don't follow the sparrow. It begins in the chest and scrunches every word that comes in or goes out.

One word for feeling is pretension, but it's a loaded word that applies to an interpretation of why the feeling exists. A better way to explain it is the assumption of the thing before the thing, ideas of what the world is without consultation.

Meditation is one way to disarm assumption and in a way, it works. Paying attention and learning to pay attention to things other than expressions of self. For every moment my attention is elsewhere, its not busy interpreting signs or generating meaning.

What is this relation between what I don't know and what I don't want to know? The fact that I devote time to putting off questions, playing games or making music or writing, a kind of busy work that keeps me from what?

Yet I remain on a Sunday afternoon. It's not about some incalculable distance but a few simple facts, my desire to be alive a desire beyond articulation. No words can alter its course through the body, and the best I can do is describe it.

Whereas purpose occurs concurrently with language. A hardening stance or a poem coming into focus. It is a course of action. Listening to music, consuming news, counting the number of ships coming into the harbor, all this purpose.

Pleasure becomes purpose but I get lost in my own feeling. There are entire worlds untouched inside us. Entire subjects we never think to mention. It's not fair to compare anything to what we have been through, but even desire can be segregated.

We perceive the one. Oneself in one's body, one's hands and one's thoughts. There is something god-like in numbers, but to think the one and the two and the three is universal, only guides us back to pictures of ourselves, standing in, our arms around each other.

I wonder what my statue would look like? Said the little girl to her father.
She held her hem at arms length and admired her shadow.
He did the same.