Seeking The Voice

I am listening, waiting for the voice to speak.

But the voice does not come.

The lightbulb remains cold and dark in the void of my mind.

Smothering silence reigns.

I hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing. There is nothing to perceive.

Each moment passes into the next.

Awkward silence.

Inspiration sought, space given, approached with humble uncertainty.

Nothing.

The time for inspiration comes and goes.

The appointed hour has arrived and retreated.

The audience came and went.

Nothing offered, nothing received.

It all comes to an end.

Before it has even begun.

It is over. Lost. Expired.

Where was my muse?

What have I done to offend her?

Why was I abandoned?

Silence Returns.

My Constructed World Of Urgency

I was sitting in my home office chair researching. My attention was focused in sharply on the mobile app development techniques I was trying to learn. Working at home I always have the risk of some distraction. My wife needing help, the kids needing help, random noises of sibling discontent as they argue about the finer points of who gets to hold the current favored item. So, I put on my noise cancelling headphones to minimize distraction and dive deep into my reading.

As much as I’m trying to focus, I realize something is drawing my attention away from my computer screen. My attention shifts to a repeating sound outside of my office. Half frustrated, I try to identify what the sound is and how I can isolate it and remove it. I have to work, I need to focus, this is important! I realize as I begin to make out the sound more clearly that it is my 3-year-old singing. The voice of an angel is coming through the walls to me, and I am struggling to find a way to remove the sound.

As I listen more closely, I realize I don’t know the song he is singing. It is just a song he is making up, a happy little lyric only a 3-year-old would think to put to music. It is a moment of pure beauty. A smile reaches across my face and gently removes my intensity. I realize as I listen further that he is accompanied by birds signing in the back yard and there is a light breeze blowing.

I realize that the pace I am running my mind at and the urgency I have established in my research is completely self-imposed. The adrenal burst I generated to push myself harder is making me lose sight of the beauty around me. I have pushed myself into survival mode so I can… so I can what? What am I looking to survive to a later moment for? Why do I need to survive this moment? I need to live this moment!

The push toward fight or flight is entirely self-constructed. I am in fact making myself tense as a tool for efficiency and focus. I am turning myself into a tool. I am not a tool; I am a human being. Alive and blessed and driven… Driven to distraction. I need to come back to the present. I need to hear the birds. I need to hear my child. The child that I use as my motivation for what I do. The child I am ignoring as I plow forward trying to provide for.

I want to cry. Both tears of joy and tears of sadness. This moment is so beautiful. My pressure feels so insidious.

Keep Moving To Win… Right?

Quicker than a ray of light.

Running. Running. Running.

Itemize. List. Run. Run. Run.

Be Powerful!

Drive. Run…

So tired.

We live on a globe, the faster you run, the further you go,

the sooner you realize we’re all going in circles.

Call it exploration. Call it exploitation.

Label it. Categorize it. Collect it. Move on.

I am an experience pack rat. I must collect them all.

Find what you value. Value what you find.

What creates value?

Being physical?

Being intangible?

Being Emotion?

Being Flesh?

When the end comes what will be left?

Who will say my life had value? Who will remember my life?

Does memory mark value?

What are we seeking?

EVERYTHING is busyness. Everything is valuable. Everything is trivial.

The Record Needle

Consciousness is enigmatic at best. It’s easy enough to explain it in self referencing terms, for example, “I think, therefore I am.” But it’s difficult to abstract away from the subject itself to describe what consciousness actually is. I wanted to introduce you to the concept of the record needle.

Dj Stylus On Vinyl Record

Imagine for a moment that your life is a record. You are born on the outer edge of the record and you die when the last song plays on the inner edge near the record label. Your whole life is represented by the music across the vinyl.

So what are you?

Are you the record? Yes. But this represents you across all time that you will occupy and have occupied.

Are you the music coming out of the speakers? Yes. But this is really the side effect of your presence.

Are you the record player? Yes, arguably, along with the rest of the universe. You can be seen as both part of the choir and the conductor. Player and played.

But what of your consciousness? Where would this metaphor put your consciousness? The answer is, the record needle.

Dj Needle Stylus On Spinning Record

Your consciousness is actually a tool, or mechanism, through which you are married to the present moment. Your consciousness enables you to experience your life one moment at a time. Without the needle the record would be a collage of random notes and orchestration. You need a linear experience to be able to process and attempt to understand the content.

Spinning Vinyl Record. Motion Blur Image. Vintage Toned.

Without life being presented as a momentary experience, everything would happen at once. There would be a tremendous burst of sight and sound, light and darkness, noise and silence, in an instant and then nothing.

Perhaps that is truly what the big bang is/was/will be. Everything happened all at once. Within that a tool was devised to allow souls to try to understand/experience that flash. How would you try to break down, literally everything, into digestible chunks?

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

Thus comes consciousness, a needle on the record of your life. Allowing you to process this experience linearly.

record-needle

Namaste,

Kevin