“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.”
~ Charles de Lint
There is enough magic in the morning to make the day worth facing. Go to work? Why not. I’ve already accomplished something proactive today – I suddenly realized that I often pout in the morning due to my coffee getting cold too quickly. Well, this morning I remembered that I have a bright red thermal cup. See? Now I feel smart for the first time since waking. Progress. But is it magic? It is for me. I can’t explain it.
Last night I found and ended up watching a debate on the topic “Is Death Final?”; basically asking if there is an afterlife. The two debaters on the pro side were guys I know from my research: Eben Alexander and Raymond Moody, both Doctors, and highly trained as well. Raymond and Eben did a great job in presenting and debating their advocacy. Yet the guy who wrote the article that led me to the YouTube video felt that Raymond and and Eben were clobbered by the opposition. Curious.
I thought the opposition fellas were all snarky to the point of slightly visible arrogance; they came across as condescending, yet their eyes, in listening to their opponents, were sharp and analytical. I was impressed by that. Since I am an avid advocate of the “yes” side in the question of the afterlife I would naturally tend toward thinking my side won, but I am actually somewhat of a true skeptic by nature, especially when it comes to the paranormal, so when Raymond Moody stated that the paranormal is pseudo-science I had to agree, to a point. That the question in question will be answered, and in a positive way, is beyond doubt, from my point of view. I’ve written of the research work that Dr. Penny Sartori is doing in Wales, and I would not be surprised if it turns out to be her, when the evidence comes down. But it could be Pim van Lommel who does the deed. Or Bruce Grayson. Numerous scientist are getting close to veridical evidence.
The bottom line here is the supposition that consciousness in not a product of the brain, as the opposition argued against, so there is no scientific reason that it cannot continue after death. That is my belief. And goddess knows that I also believe that I am a believer. But I am also a writer and an author. As Umberto Eco pointed out, a journalist’s duty is to simply observe and report. As I see it, conclusions may or may not be applied, but they are not actually part of the duty. They are elective.
Which brings me back to myself, as I sit here with my coffee, savoring the threshold of dawn by indulging in my guilty pleasure: writing from the seat of my pants. You’ll never find me working from an outline. Nor an inline. I tend to be all over the ballpark in my thoughts, thus confusion is as likely as lucidity, and integrity lets me use both in creating this process which with I blog. Nice!
On that note, I had to capture an escaped cat yesterday. I’m not really changing the topic, as such. Trust me on that one. I caught the critter with a specially designed net, a net for cats. I was garbed in a rather crude, pale blue haz-mat gown with a pair of bite-proof gauntlets, in the tiny room that serves as an isolation room for cats that are suspected of being burdened with contagious conditions. I caught the cat and returned him to his cage, but not before giving my adrenal glands a run for their money. My heart was pounding as it raced. That friggin cat could have climbed right up that net pole to do a number on my face. Maybe I should have had riot gear? I enjoyed the task, and success is usually fulfilling.
I know this post is somewhat disjointed. I’m okay with that.
Peace out, y’all.