truth comes in silence
december 19, 2024Fraugdosplaidye; a centuries old concept traced back to an obscure village in eastern Europe, mostly forgotten in modern times. Essentially it means that anything can be made to make sense if it is placed within a suitable web of context. You could see it as a child’s game, like how Santa of course wants milk and cookies to snack on during his long journey delivering gifts on Christmas Eve. But there are profound implications when you see it on a larger scale, when you see it in government and religious texts, or in social circles, or advertisements, or any entity which speaks to an audience. It is how the world as we perceive it is formed. If you can connect enough of the right cords to any object/subject, it will become integrated into the blanketed “reality.”
All ends have a cause and people fear action. When an observation petrifies into unobserved fact by the masses, it becomes nothing but a walking stick for the blind. An opaque shield veiling reality, blocking what actually is from view and constructing a layer atop naked reality which is then mistakenly perceived as truth. To know is to be torn to shreds by the restless winds of change. A state of knowing is a state of death. Understanding is the board allowing us to surf waves of impermanence. Understanding uncertainty, that is life. When something enters the realm of knowing, it collapses into a static version of itself unable to be further observed without subtle or major expectations clouding our view. The mind is so easily compelled to that which it is shown. Truth comes in silence.
December of my twentieth year, perhaps the only year I’ve been here. I escaped time, which is really to say that mind escaped body and resonated with the awareness watching all. Never fully alive nor dead, like the desert. Capable of holding an ocean, seashells revealed as the great winds wither my skin. All of those subtle signs have taught me to live this way and I am subtly revolting against them. The human in me fears dissolution yet that is what I flow towards. My mother stamped awareness as “12:51” as we walked through the desert and it felt like an announcement of where we stood inside of Time Park.
I’ve been experiencing occasional deja vu for moments that are still hanging in the future, yet to manifest. My main focus lately has been reconstructing the way I experience time. I practice plucking my awareness out of it and encourage it to traverse across a broader field where time is equivalent to locations drawn on a paper map. Once it is not felt as a linear phenomena, I am no longer bound to the short confines of conventional time. I begin to move in years rather than hours or days.
Slowly, slowly I’m learning to keep on the path. To not get caught in the abundant distractions. Realizations flip in my head like a fish out of water. I can’t tell if I’m catching up to everyone else or light years ahead. It all circles back to the same point either way. Maybe I write so much to see how I don’t believe even my own words. Devoted maintenance of my vehicle so that I am capable enough to roam where I must. A healthy body and mind are things with much variance in their definable qualities. I think at its core, it means a body and mind that are tools of expansion allowing deeper realizations rather than limited and unmastered facilities which handicap consciousness. Thus I monitor and experiment heavily with both. Late mesquite pods dying off in December, the world warps itself quicker now and I take note of when the leaves change color. Surely I’ve written enough for a thousand lifetimes by now. See how I don’t believe my words?