Sunday, April 17, 2011
Part IV: To Soar
Once I descend from my high wire act, I find myself comforted by my ability to soar. Pledging to remain present in my elevated mode, a miscellany of thoughts begin to swirl, sophisticated, authoritative, philosophical, theological, scientific, confrontations for the mind for which there is no appropriate language. These thoughts culminate into a superbly disordered jumble of bewilderment. Powerful commentators return. Internal critics render interpretations based on biased perspectives. My mind harangues itself and the complex ambivalence returns. This is the critic who extinguishes nonsense, is unsympathetic in the extreme, and has no faults for no risks are undertaken. It’s motivation is the most faithful, not in the pious sense, but rather out of desire for purity. No pretenses can be made. The practice of inventing imaginary situations or posturing is pure deception and will not be tolerated. There is absolutely no facade here. It is also a quiet place. Mute from pain. Hushed and inaudible. Suppressed, noiseless, soundless, discreet, confidential.
Propitiously, the moment fades. Doubts and confusion return; but in doubting resides hope. This doubt carries brutal, highly accessible wisdom. Sublimely negative, unanswerable, and yet, the possibility of it being such replaces the powers of reason that would negate its justification. A true possibility exists. Supported by the laws of quantum physics, Leviathan-like in possibility, irrespective of the lack of covenant, an exuberance for theodicean, divine goodness and providence comforts with a kind of mad eloquence that pragmatically strengthens. The cycle returns.
My questions are incommensurate with my understanding. Literature comforts as much as it troubles my mind. There is no peace in the face of mortality. From Biblical pagan origins, Egyptian mythology, and Greek Hellenistic stoicism, a definite, idiosyncratic personality emerges. It lends a finer edge to the subtle truths interpolated within the texts that are compared. A deep appreciation for the full range of consciousness enhanced by rhyme and meter grows and another day passes.
I commune with my own heart in my desire to know wisdom, I find myself subjected to madness and folly, grief increases, knowledge increases sorrow. Vanity soothes. Desires and ambitions console and vex themselves in labor and achievement. A higher pitch illuminates this comforter as a leader among leaders. There is power in oppressing doubt, in casting it aside. But time and chance happens to us all. Within moments, universality competes with the mightiest labor to maintain neutrality. I tremble.
When strength trembles, understanding is our only counsel.
The search continues...