OUT OF TIME

Perhaps one becomes aware of being out of time as one gets older. This is true in more than one sense: One senses that there is just not enough time left to accomplish new ventures, much less finish old ones, and also one no longer perceives oneself as existing within the established conventional framework of time as a measurement of one's life. Of course, I speak of my own experience but believe it must be true for others as well, though I could be wrong in my assumption. 

I think this sense of "being out of time" comes with a gradual disidentification with the changing society (and its conventions) in which one lives, but also with the body in which one exists. As we age, our bodies begin to "wind down" to put it mildly. Our body can no longer do what it once did, we get tired more easily, we feel like "our time has passed," and it probably has; we are on the downswing. Hopefully it is a gradual, not too painful process. Many of us who have cared for family or spouse or someone who is otherwise deteriorating, already have the experience of heading towards our own end. In this period, we do begin to disidentify with our body and recognize ourselves as something more, which may be simply wishful thinking that "I" will continue on and on, and not vanish into nothingness. 

All that I'm saying is probably so obvious to most people, including myself, but I am trying to get at something deeper here, which is elusive. To "be out of time" is also to "be out of space", i.e., out of the body itself. It is like being in a dream in which we inhabit a body, and move through a physical world, perceiving through the body, but not being limited by it. It is as though we watch everything that goes on--other people in their activities, our own selves in our activities, the wind in the trees, the news on TV--but it is like a movie in which we are participating, playing a role. The measurement of time and aging is of the movie and not real. Even the natural part--the trees, the wind, the earth--are not quite real. We know on a certain level or levels that all this that is occurring is only real to a certain extent, that it exists within its own matrix or grid of time and space and matter, that it materializes as we descend into its more dense realm or dimension. 

Of course, the catch is "we" or "I", for before we/I descend into this dense realm, there is no "me"; "I" do not exist on that level; there is rather a "oneness" or "allness" or "nothingness" even. We are so used to ourselves, our "I-ness," that to not exist in that way is too alien to perceive. When our physical bodies die, we are disconnected from that level of being. It is believed by many that, due to our physical and psychological egoic identification, and also to our need to develop and evolve, we quickly reincarnate. This is something I'll talk about another time. I remember many "past lives" but need to determine whether this is story or history, though, in fact, it is probably both. To have history, you must descend to the level of matter, time and space. 

REDEMPTION VIA TRUTH? WHAT IS THAT? WHERE?

We have heard that "the truth shall make you free" so many times that we believe both that we know what that means and that it is valid. So, as I did in my first blog, we "tell the truth." We believe we "owe it to ourselves to tell it to the world." But is "freedom" really earned by such self-exposure, especially if we are made vulnerable by such exposure? I think shame or guilt only follow such an act when it is somehow not the way it actually is to us, when we still hide a part of it that waits to be exposed. Revealing ourselves allows us to be free of having to be that particular aspect of ourselves; of course, there is always more. We probably reveal only what we feel is finally "safe" to say, to admit. Such honesty may actually help others to reveal themselves, and, perhaps more importantly, allow them to see themselves and to hear themselves, to respect themselves as they are, at least a bit more. I don't have answers so much as I have questions. I state them here for both myself and for anyone who might read this. Would I read this if I were not me? I might, for I have an interest in how others think and how they see things; sometimes they actually give me something new and different to consider. 

I relate a bit of my journal: He felt he was getting closer to "the truth of it" (by his revealing his "secret"), while simultaneously becoming more aware that there wasn't even such a thing as "the truth of it." He was understanding that it wasn't "knowing the truth" that mattered so much as being able to take in whatever happens, as having an ability to be "properly impressed." Perhaps a presence of "the truth" figured into such an ability to "properly" receive what events befell one, but "the truth" in itself is indecipherable in fact and intent. According to Bohr, clarity is inaccurate, and accuracy is unclear. Nothing real is understandable or to be understood. Rather it is to be taken in well, i.e., in all humility and attention. How do I receive? How do I experience? I must realize not only that I do not know anything, but that nothing is known. It is only my belief (and the cultural belief for the most part) that I know anything. Even what is "known" is both partial and by agreement. Yet we glibly speak of "finding the truth."

Continuing journal: The real thing, then, is in the story told, in our telling it and our hearing it, and not in whether or not it is "true." Do we listen to a story because it is true? No, we listen because it is "real" to us, because it "speaks" to us, because it resonates with "that which is true" within us, which even we do not know and could not know or "find" even if it could be known, which it cannot. If it could be, I don't believe we would even exist or have a need to exist, though, if we are "all things," I may be wrong; we may be and also not be.

Continuing: I seem to be just bantering words about, engaging semantic argument, but I believe it is more omenic argument, for I am speaking of the reality of omens, i.e., of the power of that which is impressed upon us, which is at least partly up to us and our ability and willingness to receive, though the omen may reach us in spite of or in addition to ourselves. Isn't that how "God speaks" to us--not because we consciously want to but because we unconsciously (which can be "God") want to?

"NAME" IS THE EFFECT OF WHO YOU ARE, WHAT YOU DO

I didn't want to publish the first segment because I felt it to be "too personal," "too revealing." I didn't even know why I divulged that information about myself. But as I thought about it, I realized that to move through the "swamp of name and form," you have to first know just what that is. Otherwise, they're just a nice, abstract Buddhist metaphor to ponder on and not take too personally. Karma, the effect of one's actions, is at the essence here, and it is not an abstract, intellectual exercise; it is the actual "human imprint" that you make by being who you are and doing what you do. It is absolutely personal and you are the person to whom and for whom you are responsible. And you have to realize just who you are, that is, the being that you present in the world, before you can even begin to think about being able to move through the "swamp," the miasma, the quicksand, that you, your name, your identity, creates in the world. This is not about philosophizing about "self," or "karma," or an image you would like to have of yourself. It is not about "consciousness" or "soul" or "psyche," but about you, me, us, and the endless effects and reverberations of our actions in the world. Nor is it about feeling guilty or ashamed of the mistakes we have made in our obliviousness or ignorance or willfulness. Rather, it is about recognizing ourselves and the effects we have--not abstractly or mentally or in any way detached, but, rather, viscerally. To realize the suffering that we have caused others is terrifying. Shame and guilt may initially appear and be experienced, but to stop there is both insufficient and irresponsible. We have no right to remain in Hell; self-punishment is not enough. We must move through it by realizing that there is more to the process of self-understanding than simply allowing ourselves to wallow in the "swamp of name and form." Part of this realization is that, if we are more aware of what we are and what we do, we do, in fact, do things better, that is, without making big negative waves in our wake that inundate others and ourselves. We begin to see through our name and form, that is, our identity, our flesh, and both what we have made and has made us--our world.

BEING AWARE OF OURSELVES AND THE EFFECTS OF OUR ACTIONS

Right before I wake up in the morning, right after my last vivid dream, what comes to me in my thoughts is so lucid, so clear. I see things as they actually are. I see responsibility and opportunity to act exactly as they are. And then, since it's still quite early and I am still tired, I go back to sleep briefly, tending to forget everything that came to me. But sometimes I get up or don't quite sleep, and my earlier lucid thoughts are remembered. All in all, there is a "swamp of name and form" to be moved through, not just for me but for all of us. When I first awaken in the morning I actually wonder how I can get through another day of mundane, absurd existence in this body. My dreams are so vivid and alive and not in the flesh that my awakening in the flesh is a rude one that does dismay me initially. Each day it takes an hour or so to adapt once again to being in this body, in this world, this illusory, false world of social convention and sheer need to eat and otherwise survive in the flesh. I am made so aware of the profound limitations, especially in that which I am able to see, to notice, to be aware of. Awareness is so utterly limited; we miss so much that is there, that actually should be noticed, rather than the things we have been trained to notice, like, for instance, not only what others are saying in so many ways that are the total opposite of what they may be saying or doing, but in ourselves as well. And when others do speak the truth about how they may feel or how they perceive, rather than actually hearing what they are telling us, which is their truth, we instead "take it personally," feeling hurt and misunderstood. I say "we" and mean "I", though it is not just true for me. 

In fact, I, in my self-centeredness, ignorance, and simple obliviousness, have affected others to the extent that I did much to destroy them and their lives. Not knowing myself adequately at all, and not even being particularly interested in this, I made mistakes that directly influenced other people, doing immense damage to them and inflicting destruction to their very lives. And when they have had the guts to let me know this, I, who believe that I am truly a "good person" who is "doing the right thing", have been hurt and insulted. That I have been ignorant rather than malicious, unintentional rather than intentional, does not mitigate the effects of the mistakes made. I call them "mistakes" because they were not intentional. But once the harm is done, one cannot undo it. I should have at least learned from my mistakes; that's the least we can do. I never even expressed "mea culpas" since I could not even see, much less acknowledge, mistakes I had made. Let me be specific: In one instance, I simply repacked a box of my wife's things and piled it a bit higher in the garage. In repacking it, I put more things into it "to save space", and never even considered that it might now be too heavy for her to lift. Then I added to the problem I had created by putting it further out of her reach. Then, while on a ladder she then needed in order to reach the box, she tried to lift it, and the accident happened that caused her to be disabled and in severe perpetual pain. All I needed to have done to avoid this catastrophe was THINK about what I was doing. That's all. But I was simply my automatic self, doing what I do. When I asked my doctor about my culpability in the accident, he said, "You were just the straw that broke the camel's back. It's not your fault. It would've happened sooner or later." No. He was wrong. It wasn't just an accident waiting to happen; it was a mistake that I made in my obliviousness that severely negatively affected another's life. I must take responsibility for that. How does one take responsibility for such a thing? First, my realizing that one is responsible, and, second, by becoming aware of what one is doing and how one is being. I do take care of my wife but I wish I hadn't been so much in my stupor. This is a hard mistake to learn from, and one that is so obvious that you would think that I had learned from it a long time ago. But it took seven years to finally see what I had done. And, once I saw that, I began to see all the other things that I had done that affected others.