A Strange Burden and Fractals

“What sort of philosophers are we, who know absolutely nothing of the origin and destiny of cats?” ~ Henry David Thoreau

“If anyone on the verge of action should judge himself according to the outcome, he would never begin.”~ Søren Kierkegaard

“No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.” ~ Khalil Gibran

Saturday’s storm seemed to pull back the Veil, creating a portal, and Spring came bursting through, without pause. I’m not thrilled about it but I’ll takes it as it goes. First, the mud. Not much to say about it. There are . . . well, let’s just say that it calls for some creative driving. But that is also a cause for celebration. Spring is a time of creativity; the seeds sprout; perfects new lambs; harsh Winter gets taken down a notch. Onward. Yeh, that’s all on the grand scale, where we are mammals in a perfectly natural world. It’s not a matter of what we think we are, for we are primates as well, who ended up with the strange burden of intellectual thought. That was a big one. We can think all we want yet that thought stuff gets heavy eventually. Some New Age folks claim that thought creates reality. To that I say: that perspective is a little too simple for my tastes. Period. Too simple. I prefer Chaos. Not in the tremulous swirls of Mandelbrot’s fractals (click here for a lovely video that will educate you about Mandelbrot fractals), it is the potential that Chaos holds I cherish. The late great Stephen Levine suggested that we do not create reality, we effect reality. I found that concept to be difficult to handle at first. It made me think, but that didn’t last. And now that I think about it . . . well, I was sick a few weeks ago, with viral shenanigans that seem to suggests that viruses effect reality. They didn’t create me. Geez, I am truly getting into some abstract and possibly silly and/or wicked punditry. To my New Age friends, this I say to you all: I’m with you all the way on this reality-creating business, but I reckon it is for a different reason altogether. I see it as a metaphor for the way our brains perceive then interpret then effect a picture of what the heck it is that we are looking at, living in. It’s a perception that grows into a perspective. We create the most accurate picture/story of the sensuous world we can, one in which we exist, as mammals, as primates, as intellectually burdened beings of Light. Ha! Got ya with that last one, didn’t I. I’m going with the Being of Light thingy today, because as I peel back the onion layers of the residuals of clinical trauma, that’s what I friggin find. The Being of Light perspective is what I and the trauma buried back all those many years ago. It’s been 34 years, to be exact . . . add a few weeks to that. It happened on February 3rd, 1984. The actual anniversary day is right about when the dastardly viral infestation began. My Guide, a Being of Light alone, is all about magick and healing. My grasp on the magick part has burgeoned in the time I have been sick then recovering. The healing part began when I saw Megan, the PA down at Urgent Care. The Goddess is in every woman. In every man as well, but that is another thing altogether, one that can be perhaps examined at some other time. Sigh.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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