I have spoken quite broadly of what man does, or men do; especially in, and with, their minds. And of things taking place in their own (our own) consciousness. No doubt to some this is irksome. And, no doubt, to some even provocational. To the one causally reading I have little need of persuasion that most is seen, at best, as an uncharitable view. One might even say a cynic’s view if so inclined, and that all presented is no more than that; the self indulgent rantings of a man with a blade to hone. There is no argument had, nor need of one to present against this. After all, in any accusation the concession would already be present if one concedes I am only a man.
There is already an agreement to likeness by identity as “a” man, even if only a ranting one. And so identity and identifying in, and to, some likeness fits us both; and perhaps better than appreciated. And again, I have little doubt that to those thus persuaded, there is a preference to either think of one’s self as more charitable and most probably, not a ranter. More…what(?)…deliberate, rational, of some greater consciousness, some greater understanding of what “really takes place” or is taking place broadly across the spectrum of man’s considering of himself in his consciousness.
But here again we find point of agreement; that consciousness…even if disputed over, is a real thing. A very thing quite immaterial, yet found in (produced by? a product of? real…at all?) a material being. And which, as from it flows in the man all other notions (are they real?) of truth, justice (or fairness), trust, and every counterpart that is thereby included if conceding them as real…lie(s), injustice, and distrust. What a wealth of matters come into view!
I will at this time leave off who juggles/handles them with any skill, if at all.
But to the less than casual reader who may be paying greater attention to things said and is not so inclined to judge merely according to approval or opprobrium, the source of that irk could well lie or be held as against, in some sensing of what appears a lack of consistency. Hypocrisy. Or against even some unspoken claim of ascendancy. That is in finding a man (like me) so willing to point out what he calls presumptions and presumptuousness as broadly identified across the display of man’s consciousness, but does not see his own presumptuousness to imagine he can himself step outside of his own being as a man to hold such perspective as such would either allow, or be able to be held to, any confirming. This would indeed be the heights (or depths) of hypocrisy. Of presumptuousness.
Yet, see how much we agree as to their being no less to us….real things? And to hearken back…where do presumptuousness and hypocrisy fall on your scale of “good” and “bad”? Are they…neutral? Hold some smelly and offensive taint? See how we all betray ourselves to holding incessant and unrelenting…judgments in our consciousness of even one another.
I say they are so rarely turned as they must be if the balance is to be square, if the scale is to be equitable; to not only outwardly as to what we perceive as coming to us, but inwardly to where still another thing no less comes to us, our perceptions of ourselves.
Yes, it’s too easy to us (comforting, comfortable, pleasurable) to say “Who do you think you are to…?” to another.
But when we find the question turned as one unrelentingly posed, as one in which we are forever in effort to answer (we like to think rightly) but of which we only deceive ourselves and are deceived by notion of comfort (and rightly goes out the window faster than we know) it is always present, always turned by motive of comfort for ourselves…but which remains, nevertheless.
“Who do you think you are…?”
And we are always caught in it…for response, and by our response.
Everything that is…holds expression of itself. And gives it away.
And it is not me asking “Who do you think you are?”, you began answering that long before in every motion, thought, word, and deed…of when you first touched consciousness.
You’ve been caught in trying to know by trying to show (just as I)
“Who you are”
But what will you (or I) do when finding there is nothing we can do about it for either the knowing or the showing?
Telling ourselves? That is out. For who can assume in himself a superiority of view of himself that would give perspective, view…to judge? If (as said) judgment holds some inherent assumption of superiority (or at very least separation from or to the thing being judged) but…who imagines themselves…superior to themselves?
Yes, we are all very well caught.
Unless something superior to us is, and is both willing and able to tell us who we are. But that then means submitting to “its” judgment as from that superior place and position. And there is something loathe to accept that. Its being as merely a created thing. Creator…of no thing…and certainly not itself.
A thing that might say “I believe there is such a thing as truth” or what is true. A thing that might even tell itself or say of itself additionally, “and I want to know the truth” as though its motive of seeking is pure toward that one thing. But, let’s not fool ourselves (or better, let’s not continue to); truth cannot be had apart from submission to it, acceptance of it as fully over one (or us) with no wiggle room allowed for its greater application toward one man as not towards another. To indict one man or seek to constrain him to whatever degree with it, while letting another go free (so to speak). And always ourselves at very least…included. There is no “Friends and Family” plan for exemptions nor mitigation…with “you” (or me) as center of that source for dispensing.
And it is one of our (as man) common, but crafted clevernesses [sic] to imagine some grasp of truth sets us above another, makes us better than another…when in reality the only right response, equitable balance in response to truth…is a greater submission to it as imposed by its knowing. One cannot know truth apart from knowing of such submission.
And one can tell me (or any other) they don’t care a thing about “it” while still striving to make known to both me (and yourself) “who you are”. To give what one imagines is the truth…of who they are.
We really don’t know what we make of ourselves.
A god.
Judging all things as judged by none other.
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