‘Have you ever felt as if your soul leaves your body to look down on you? Sees all this mad creation around us? This desecrated earth. What we have done to our garden. Only it’s a picture of peace. No struggle. No brutality. It returns to the body. Feels the sensations of life. The two vibrate. Body and soul. You begin to shake. There is a beautiful feeling that helps you trust yourself. You know what it means, to be alive’. The Forest.
The smallest things, the simplest things, can be enjoyed as unencumbered. They console with their apparent attachment to the way things really are. They speak only of themselves as they present themselves. You can see them clearly. They have clarity.
I’m a writer and I appreciate the simple things, I really do. Yet I will insist on speculating.
It’s possible to go so deep in a few moments that you reach a place of utter stillness and calm. This could be the self, who you really are, and it can be nothing at all. It can be an empty space, and you may not get to go there very often. If you can you are doing very well. When you come out of it the world of phenomena expresses itself, what is apparent to you on returning from that empty space is ineffable on occasion. You can’t be blamed for thinking something you don’t have access to is at work, and if it makes you feel safe, well that’s not to be taken lightly.
Trying to get back to empty space (we do not exist) cannot be achieved without letting go of meaning. So much of what we encounter in our day to day life doesn’t seem real. So we bestow meaning on many things. Meaning is the best we can manage when we can’t get to the empty space. It’s what we give ourselves to help it all matter.
A whiskey with a friend can be a simple pleasantry, yet take a turn, and the whiskey becomes a trojan horse. It resonates, it contains within it an entire array of competing histories. Perhaps mourning comes to mind, betrayal, seduction, a whiskey can mean so much. Or nothing at all, and the nothing is only a forgetting. When a whiskey means nothing you have let the trojan horse into the gates. It’ll come at you later if you ever manage to sleep. There will be a lot of remembering rampaging through your neatly arranged mind whether you like it or not. You should never get involved with whiskey if you can’t answer what it asks of you.
A question is a trojan horse. Should it be answered truthfully or not at all? How many times do we give answers honestly? Dishonestly? Sometimes a question is not so simply answered – it is this or it is this or it is nothing at all. That’s when you have a drama.
It may sound exhausting to think of everything as a trojan horse but see how many more questions come out of it. Account for as many as you can, and maintain the sanctity of your Troy, meantime you can get into a complicated drama. We have to mean something before we can face the final truth of what must happen. Which is to die. We all hope before we get there we can have made a difference. We can have made our mark. We can mean something. We all find the empty space in the end. That is what we earn. Some get to go there a few times before the big nothing. So your drama can be how to answer the questions embedded in the things you do, the relationships you encounter, the life you make. So enjoy your whiskey responsibly, whatever it means. Write the resolution sober and you’ve probably done the job.