The Goddess and the Physicist

“Never stop being a kid, Richard. Never stop feeling and seeing and being excited with great things like air and engines and sounds of sunlight within you. Wear your little mask if you must to protect you from the world but if you let that kid disappear you are grown up and you are dead.” ~ Richard Bach

“If we wanted to construct a basic philosophical attitude from these scientific utterances of Pauli‘s, at first we would be inclined to infer from them an extreme rationalism and a fundamentally skeptical point of view. In reality however, behind this outward display of criticism and skepticism lay concealed a deep philosophical interest even in those dark areas of reality of the human mind which elude the grasp of reason. And while the power of fascination emanating from Pauli‘s analyses of physical problems was admittedly due in some measure to the detailed and penetrating clarity of his formulations, the rest was derived from a constant contact with the field of creative processes, for which no rational formulation as yet exists.” ~ Werner Heisenberg

Fascinating. That word has come to always remind me of Lieutenant Commander Data, on Star Trek Next Generation – he often says “fascinating”. Yes, I am a big fan. It is my go to show when I truly want to escape my problems and the world in general. Netflix is really cool that way. Star Trek NextGen is offers me comfortable fascination. When Captain Picard got captured by the Borg I was like all OMG. I can be that way all I like, on up to bedtime, anytime I feel the need. But I am fascinated by life in all its manifestations. This is an amazing world! The material world is fascinating to me, much in the same way that Nobel Prize physicist Richard Feynman pointed out that you cannot, no way no how, know a bird by merely learning it’s name. Someone says, “Oh, wow, that bird is a raven” and I’m like all “Dude, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”. This morning I am fascinated on many fronts. One is the traumatic experience of having a Chevy van crash through the wall, while I was reading Drunvalo Melchizedek explaining angels. The van’s front bumper sat no more than 18 inches from my left knee when all the deafening roar and flying stones calmed down. An angel came to help me that frigid November morning. Well, not an angel. She is the Mother Goddess of Celtic lore. She taught me instantly how to sidestep the physical danger by slightly phasing out into a parallel universe. Something right up Feynman’s alley, right? Yeh buddy. Does all this sound weird to you? That’s because it was.

I don’t know why the van incident is on my mind this morning. But I do know I am in a nearly perpetual struggle with the effects of trauma. The van came about 20 years after the bicycle crash that birthed my trauma. Lucky me, right? Yeh, right. It’s hard to explain. The negative after effects of the now released trauma runs parallel to the benefits. Fascination with the material world is one of them, one that helped me come back to earth after the bike crash and the NDE that it launched. But enough of that. The coffee is good. The cat is asleep in her bed, to the right of my knee. Better a cat than a Chevy van, but I suspect that goes without saying. I just spent the last two days in introvert land. That panic attack last week knocked the living bejezzus outta me. Such an attack is not a subjective thing. It is heart and bones real; a real physiological event. The after effects of the cortisol rush still linger. The aches are still in effect but the shaking and occasional tremors have abated, back to near normal. But I have to work today. To work I will carry with me images of a raven’s indescribable aerial skills, of how it was Archimedes who gifted the world with screws and bolts (I work in a hardware store. What do you expect?), thoughts of Parmenides trekking into the Underworld to encounter the Goddess, memories of Lori’s brilliant smile, and that of a beautiful woman I know in realtime. Sigh. She’s a beauty too, and I am a romantic. Lori’s spirit comes to me at times to cheer me on in this respect, but she does it with foot-tapping faux-scorn. I’m never quite sure what she means by that, but then again I am not a New Ager these days. Yes, there is Love and Light in this world but there is also the Trickster, who dances on the border between Light and the Darkness. That is the place where the alchemical river of mercury runs, the place where Yin and Yang smooch in perpetuity throughout eternity. Man, that last sentence had kind of a Tom Robbins feel to it. David Foster Wallace might say that ‘you’ve got to get it together when it comes together, when two irresistible forces entangle, when certainty takes a time out’. Boy howdy ain’t that the truth, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I just did. And on that note I must fly. Launch my car south into Taos. Feynman and Archimedes, Parmenides and that woman I know. Tom Robbins, David Foster Wallace, Dow Mossman. Yeh, why not – Neil Gaiman too. Trauma and tremors, cortisol and Love and Light. To work I go to pursue and fulfill my livelihood, go to that smile. Yeh, ain’t so bad, though I had a friggin rocky weekend. Just sat on a metaphorical rock and watch the metaphorical river flow. That’s what I did yesterday, after the storm. Yes, I did.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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