Do I exist?
Parsing through my blog behind me, I see the mire of punditry, the pedantic trinity of politics, philosophy, and poetry worst of all.
Why? Why do I devote mental energies to fields of abstraction upon which I have negligible effect?
The puzzle ever changes. Pieces that once fit together shift and split apart, borders alter, the image transitions. Tell me of a perfect political practice, a perfect philosophy, a perfect poem. Long may we talk.
Trusting nothing, I begin to establish my own creation myth in the midst of apparent collapse. Do I endeavor upon a futile effort, or is this the essential task of self-examination?
I feel myself increasingly atrophy through my habit of walking forward and upright against gravity. I spend, in turn, ever more time in my bathtub. Bending my legs behind my back, rolling my neck all the way around, I hear my joints pop with the relative focusing of cardiopulmonary attention on particular spots: my toes, my ankles, my knees, my hips, my spine, my neck, my shoulders, my elbows, my fingers, my whole.
Popping from untapped potential released in the water-induced womb-state, I begin to realize the denied aspects within me, my own other. As I make my body change as I make my mind change, I know Annie Murphy Paul’s on to something, and I excite even more when inhaling Michael Pollan. When outside the water womb, and swimming instead through the sharp air, I’m reminded – as always- of relativity. We all know relativity. Well, relatively.
Perhaps in this millennium we must make an update. When hearing the Oracle of Delphi proclaims a particular philosopher as the wisest of people, they will reply instead with “All I know is that I know relatively.” Out with the old gods and in with the new.
We imagine from our brain comes our self, yet more and more I imagine only one self throughout, from the mountains to the clouds and the crow caw, from my kidney to the president’s liver and Uranus. Uni-verse.
“The struggle to become what one is” – Friedrich “Find Your Niche” Nietzsche – how about “The struggle to become what One is” instead?
Are you with me so far?
My mother asked about you the other day. I told her that I had no idea where or what you were doing. It saddened me and I frowned for a moment. I quickly remembered how much of a lovely riot you were and from your About Me, seems like you still are. I look forward to reading more of what you have to say. Hope all is well.
Xoxo Lesly