november one
(a response to november first)
Everything I know about the world, I’ve learned from people. I know about the big bang – the starting point as far as we can tell (for now). I know about those atomy particles. I know they formed in the air when the temperature got to a certain point. I know these particles hang together and form irregular clusters. I know we are such irregular clusters, and I know that we scatter, light reflected, to give each other sensation. And I realize that, like snow, this means we lie.
This is not news – of course not. We would have no need for the phrase ‘to be honest’ if we weren’t, as a species, active liars much of the time – a curse of this mind and free will, I suppose. We’ve already learned to make allowances for this. This is not the point.
It is the stuff of snow white lies that concerns me – innocent, accidental lies. It is the stuff of physics, of separated experience, of relative perspectives. We are light, traveling at light speed, slowed down by motion in multiple dimensions. It is a lie to consider us in any other way. We are struggling creatures, each in a frustrated attempt to put this mind, this soul, to words, only to have meaning again stripped away and altered through the eyes and ears and hands and hearts of every other. It is a lie to be so sure of yourself. It is a lie to be so sure of another.
It is the stuff of misunderstandings.
These lies come to us in abundance, in snow fall – hundreds and thousands of flakes, and each one unique. These lies come to us from people, from ourselves. If everything I know about the world, I’ve learned from people… what then, do I know?
Everything I know about the world, I’ve learned from people. I know about the big bang – the starting point as far as we can tell (for now). I know about those atomy particles. I know they formed in the air when the temperature got to a certain point. I know these particles hang together and form irregular clusters. I know we are such irregular clusters, and I know that we scatter, light reflected, to give each other sensation. And I realize that, like snow, this means we lie.
This is not news – of course not. We would have no need for the phrase ‘to be honest’ if we weren’t, as a species, active liars much of the time – a curse of this mind and free will, I suppose. We’ve already learned to make allowances for this. This is not the point.
It is the stuff of snow white lies that concerns me – innocent, accidental lies. It is the stuff of physics, of separated experience, of relative perspectives. We are light, traveling at light speed, slowed down by motion in multiple dimensions. It is a lie to consider us in any other way. We are struggling creatures, each in a frustrated attempt to put this mind, this soul, to words, only to have meaning again stripped away and altered through the eyes and ears and hands and hearts of every other. It is a lie to be so sure of yourself. It is a lie to be so sure of another.
It is the stuff of misunderstandings.
These lies come to us in abundance, in snow fall – hundreds and thousands of flakes, and each one unique. These lies come to us from people, from ourselves. If everything I know about the world, I’ve learned from people… what then, do I know?
posted by one L at 10:57 a.m.
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