Isn't it curious how one thing seems bound to lead into the next, and so on? Almost enough for me to believe that chaos is orderly. Again, perhaps it is only me, willing these paths to reveal themselves, choosing to set foot onto them from the beginning. At any rate, seemingly all that I do contains connections; overlaps. But how can this be? I am not consciously seeking to discover these linkages. When they reveal themselves I sit back, dumbfounded at the beauty and intricacy with which the unraveled had been originally woven. So too have I come to believe that there is no autonomy. No originality. We build on what has been. Adeptly molding it to suit our will, yet utterly borrowed to the last. And if not, then the process of inception is categorically simultaneous with some other, equal, who too is traveling the path. And so, I continue to ponder the question of how it could be that such isolation, such alienation can exist amongst us, when truly we are one.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Synchronicity Is In Fine Form This Day
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6 comments:
My brother, I wonder the very same thing. It is simply incredible.
The day you stop feeling and wondering is the day you die inside.
I wonder at the isolation to. I find it incredibly sad.
Angela,
It's good to hear that you do. The connections are deep, and the water is so shallow.
James,
Amen to that! Never stop growing.
Alicia,
Sad on both counts, eh?
I think we are socialized to be different, to think different. However, too much difference is usually discouraged.
We then get trapped--we detach ourselves from each other, but we also cower from true originality.
Nelson,
Detachment will be the end of us, for sure.
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