Painting one’s self into a corner, skating on thin ice, biting off more than one can chew, being in over one’s head…really…who isn’t? (And not knowing one is does not mean one isn’t) This commonness of circumstance, if especially in consciousness, is either so common as to be on the one hand not worthy of mention; or by its commonness, the only thing we do have in common of any worth mentioning. For only by it can any communication (if it can take place) does take place. One either understands this as one understands the significance of the Rosetta stone, or one does not.
Without some “commonness of link” understood, recognizable, interpret-able from “one thing” to another…all is code. Indecipherable without a key.
You do not like any implication of the possibility communication is only of futility? Not that communication is of itself a futile “thing” (another “thing” that can either bear being called a thing in existence, or not) but that all appearances of it, or what we may assume as to its being “as we think of it” is so far distant from the reality of it as to be all illusory, and by that illusion…actually is in that way leading away from any truth of it. But, you don’t like this either. Who could? Not merely the opening of the can of worms that is “how then can I (or any) know anything true?” but a bit more of that bridge we would like to already think is “too far”…that one is already in such delusion as concocted of illusions.
I don’t feel like relenting of anything said earlier, so I will not to. Truth can be played with, mused over, handled like a philosophical dainty or delicacy one either cares to indulge for consideration or forgo…but when rubber meets roads, or a man is being flayed, dissected, or vivisected; he will discover a thing he may not have cared much for to consider as of paramount importance is now all and only the matter of all matters to him. And regardless of the how the relative measures of things may appear in difference or distinction, no man escapes testing. To one it may be flaying, to another a tumble in the Dow index.
And one might even discover they are being tested…by pleasure, in pleasure, and responses to pleasurable experiences. But that often appears the more rare acknowledgment of testing, for the curious default of man is more usually that comforts not be investigated as to their whys, but everyone wants to know about the pebble in their shoe and “take care of it”. How it got in there, and if it can be prevented.
Yes, I do not relent that truth is of paramount importance. Even if one wants to take any issue with such matter of what is above called “testing”. One may not accept such as a fitting or proper understanding, or such assignment of term to these matters of experience. One can simply say “That’s life…things happen…and man generally just does things about, and in response to, things that happen” no need to call it, or any of it, testing. And be no less right in their statement. But to say so is already an admission such a man believes he is, and has been, truthfully informed as to what life is, and specifically as we speak, the life of conscious man. Or man in consciousness.
Yet, he (and if it be you) could be in all denial of the testing we ourselves do most continually within our own selves. Even how much we live by test. Right now, you are even testing these words. Sense? No sense? Useless? Why, at all? Yes, why…at all? Somewhere the testing for resolution of the “all” that is brought to a man’s (even every man’s) consciousness is taking place. Somewhere inside, in his or her little laboratory everything is being measured, sorted, assigned a place of assignment according as one’s consciousness dictates to them.
And all believe their consciousness true…not merely as being true (or “real”) as in just existing, but true in no lesser sense than any absolute that might be assigned that word. It is absolutely true to them, to each, and even to such measure that any or all understanding of what truth is…is submitted to it; their consciousness as arbiter. Even truth, this thing we might in some way consider not arbitrary, as a thing universal and overarching in its being and consequence as both “real” and what is the ultimate of “is”-ing is, is all and only arbitrated (and could only be presumed to be) by a consciousness accepting of itself as a priori, true.
Yes, to most, many, if not all…to begin to muck about in such considerations seems an invitation to “crazy land”. To even for a moment consider in whatever sense it may be framed to, or by, or of a man, that the possibility that my consciousness is not “being true” to me…well, (any seeming invitation aside) does one not see how this matter of “truth” is indeed, paramount?
Therefore I do not relent.
Really, who can? Or could surrender to the notion that one’s consciousness, as is really “all they are and have” is not at all being “true to them?”
What could a man say therefore beyond “Everything I say is a lie”?
And would that be…true?
Someone, most out of their own mind to themselves, and probably in appearance to many others as no less “out of his mind” wrote a sentence, “Let God be true and every man a liar”.
But who can know their own mind lest they be brought out of it, to even see it? Where it, itself…is up for testing?
And what could do that?
And of course you cannot believe me, because you believe…yourself.
Is some futility of, and to, what appears as communication now not a supportable contention?
Fear not. Neither you nor I will ever find enough time to explain…ourselves. There is, nor ever was, nor ever shall be…enough time for that. Let that be settled to us, even as resistant that seems to all or any settling. “Let me tell you why I am who I am” is a fool’s work from a thing that is always changing. Neither steadfast, nor immovable.
Are you conscious of motion? Of being moved? Of being…changed?
How many men can one man be if he is always being moved? Changed? Changed from one…or is it to one?
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