I must admit that realties do change and most of the time there is nothing pleasant about it. Few adults have arrived at adulthood without their shares of misfortune and unhappiness. And mostly it happens because we set our conscious real estate to building mental houses and foundations on are all tied to time; and time as we know, “stands still for no man.” But we try anyway to anchor it down. To make it stay the same. One way we do that is to divide it into cycles.
It’s nothing new to equate reality with cycles. The Greeks and Native Americans have equated realities cyclically for centuries. This going in circles gives us peace, like the dog chasing its tail, until it tires out and falls asleep! Besides it’s easy to look at the past and pick up a pattern. Thus the phrase, “What the hell was I thinking!” comes to mind. But you can do it.One gets the feeling that we humans are constantly in a race to the front of life’s stage to say, “Hey we are at the top of the consciousness food chain here” why are not we in control of what is going on.
We are supposed to be the ones, setting staging up, not someone or someone out there in the cosmos! Least of all this thing called time!But we never learn. We constantly ask the same questions over and over; why do things have to keep changing? And I don’t mean necessarily for the best. I mean we like it the same. Our mental ADD, demands that once we learn it, it should dam well stay that way. We would love to say to the rest of the evolving world, my way or the highway, but it doesn’t work that way. But face it kids. No control is not the demon; most would have us to believe.
For no control is freedom; freedom from the locks and chains of past cultures and freedom from having to get it right again and again. We are all free wheeling here and the Chaos is beautifulLike a many celled organism our humanism is firing on all cells from a million plus outlets; each one delving or not delving into their own world, each one putting out his or her own signal. Piling it all onto this heaping smoking festering glowing reeking absolving evolving pile that has neither hand holds or guide rails. You get your tickets at birth and your can either ride or are ridden. Lucky ones get born here, others get born there.
Wasn’t it Schopenhauer that bemused the poor laundry lady who mindlessly hung her laundry out each day and could care less about the world and all the problems that surrounded here, while he sat there in a tizzy worrying about it all! And he topped it off with the question, which is the luckier? Him or her? You decide.So don’t try to hang on, and rest in the fact that even if you do let go, you can’t fall up…..not even if you tried or had all the time in the world to do it……