Heartbeats and Bedposts

I was laying in bed last night and it was such a beautiful evening. The window was open and everything was so very quiet except for the gentle rustle of the curtain.

A small sound came to me as I lay there. It was a tick,tick........tick,tick

I lay perfectly still and concentrated on it. It was coming from under the bed near the wall. I lifted my head and it stopped so I lay my head back down again and it started again. Determined not to lose it again I just lay very still and listen to its tiny ticking sound. It sounded like a little piece of wood gently flicking against another piece of wood like a gentle and quiet clicking of a fingernail.

I tried to understand the rhythm of it. Why was it tick, tick.......tick, tick. It was kind of like a heartbeat. And in thinking this I turned my focus in toward myself and listened for the beat of my heart and what I thought was happening was really happening. The gentle beat of my heart was shaking the bed just enough so that where the bottom of the bed post was touching the baseboard on the wall it was grabbing and releasing and with each grab and release it made a tiny ticking sound.

My heart beat on gently and the ticking sound continued until I fell asleep.

It was a set of circumstances that just came together perfectly. A motion that was probably no more than a thousandth of an inch was transformed into a sound that beat with my heart.

I wonder if there is a way I could do this to the whole world. Could I somehow transmit a gentle ticking sound of love from my heart to everyone? If I did, would anybody hear it?

There should be a great nothingness

There should be a great nothingness. A neverending nothing that takes up no space and no time. Not a blackness but a nothingness.

Yet there is something. We see and feel it. We are here - inexplicably.

THere is a reason why. It is my quest to find this reason.

Darkness

Maybe its a puzzle who's pieces need to be gathered

I am convinced that nobody knows the answer and this has been a roadblock to me. I have been almost paralyzed by the thought of traveling and meeting people, going to special places and discovering that nobody knows any more about the answer than I do. This brings me to a nihilistic place. Why should I bother to travel and ask? When I already know the answer is "I don't know"? Oh, there are plenty of people out there that will tell you they know the answer. But they don't. If they knew the real answer we would all know it. We are all just staring at shadows in the cave.

But this thought has occurred to me. Maybe there are a multitude of answer-fragments out there. And maybe I need to gather them up and put them together correctly to see the answer.

maybe

A songbird sings a thankyou

Under my kitchen window I have a nice little garden section. It has a bird bath, suet and lots of flowers. Several days ago I was hard at work editing my latest novel when through the open kitchen window I heard a bird sing a song. It seeped into me while I was working and without even realizing it I said "You're welcome" to the bird.

After I said this I snapped out of my work and realized what had happened. The bird found my little spot and really liked it so it sang a song of thanks. Something inside me realized what the song was and acknowledged it. It was an amazing experience and something that could never be forced consciously.

Sometimes I have to fight the urge to scream at the world: "Open your eyes and see the true, open your ears and hear the true." But it is something that can't be made to happen, it just has to happen.

Lack of tools revisited

I was watching a special about police dogs and they showed this one test where they took a dog to a stadium that holds three thousand people. They gave the scent of a man to the dog. One the previous day there was a baseball game there and the man had sit in one particular seat in the stadium.

It was the challenge for the dog and it's owner to find out what seat the man sat it.

Think about this. Three thousand people were there yesterday and the man sat in one seat.

Well the dog found the exact seat that the man had sat in. This boggles the mind.

This is something that I, as a man do not have the tools to do. Plain and simple.

Is this also the case with the search for the meaning of life? Do I simply not have the tools to do it? -Maybe so.

the scent of the man was there all along and I as a man had no idea. Is the answer that I seek right here in front of me? Yet I have no idea?

This brings up another possibility: If I cannot find the answer is there a tool (like the dog) that I can use to find it for me?

On the lack of tools

I am forever wrestling with the fact that it is quite possible I do not have the tools to understand/comprehend the real answer. It may simply be beyond me/us. Something that cannot be grasped in our current form and capability.

Even within my own language of English there are strict limitations. After all, my thoughts are formed and guided by the languages I speak. What if there are no words for the answer? What if it can't be explained or understood with the tools I have?

Let me give you a little example. Here is a word in portuguese that has no translation in English:

saudade

If my language has gaps in its ability and is limited within the realm of normal human experience and expression how will I be able to use it to understand something that seems to be outside the normal range of human experience?

The search for the meaning of life continues

Between

I was in that place between the waking world and the sleeping world when a thought came to me.

What if the meaning of life were also searching for me? What if all I have to do is make myself known to it so it can find me?

What do I do to let it know that I am here?