March 14th, 2006


A Great Truth Can Be Built on Lies

Wondering through the night, she thought she should seek enlightenment, feeling that self-improvement in dreams cannot be physical, but emotional and intellectual advance should be possible. Hand moves through languid air, enters a space to seek muses or sages. A mountain, so she steps through.. why a mountain, she thinks to herself? Is this a stereotype I have, or a deeper truth... a hike along the jagged rocks, wishes for a cold stream, but imagines it unlikely that a pond would be up here.. and then a cringe.. trying not to think analytically, just for a change of pace. Up ahead, sees a tree with something on it.. a few steps, and they are boots on branches.. seven league boots? Probably not. She disrespectfully darts forward, crossing hundreds of feet in a heartbeat, and sees a tent, hears a strange humming, not-entirely melodic. It stops, and a head pops out, full of hair and with wild eyes. Androgynous, like the voice a moment later, "Hello young miss". She asks to sit down, but the head shakes everywhere she points, so she remains on admittedly not-weary feet. She asks if there is wisdom she could learn, and the face looks puzzled, grins, and looks puzzled again. "I am not exactly wise, but wisdom need always be acquired from wiser folks. Experience was always a surer path to wisdom besides". She notices that this is not coming from the person, but rather is like her own dream narration, and watches the still alternating confused and delighted face in front of her. She thought about separations within the self, and how through it all, the other person was still part of her, and much of how she had blound herself and served her own interests poorly because she had allowed her identity to become less than she was, from the transformation of a school she had fought to get into into an ordeal crushing her identity of seeking fun to "addictions" separating her from herself. The face from the tent did not seem to tire, as she sought to rediscover herself, but as she turned to go, it offered a thought. "I wonder, if I were to reverse your first and middle names, whether the subtle effects of everyone, including you, seeing yourself slightly differently would change your life much". On awakening, Sarah Jane became Jane Sarah, and her life was different, although from the name or the thoughts, she never knew.

The road trip ended last night at 3am. We left DC after eating at a fantastic Indian restaurant (in my top 5), although despite my getting a business card, I can't name it because I lost said card. Today, I went to work (!), and afterwards went to the camping store to get some extra supplies I need for tomorrow's opening of a 5-day camping trip. It really is insanely stupid that I scheduled these things together, but it's done, and so it shall go. I hope that I don't collapse of exhaustion while hiking.


A Social Understanding of Man

It was difficult work, tracing those lines, but it was their only way to really understand. The concepts flowed through various logical and illogical paths, tracing each thought back to its many origins. The shapes part of a unique and personal style of the founder. From each pattern in the seeming chaos, they learned the intent better than the intender, surpassed introspection's limits, breached modesty and vanity's veils, and left the level of humanity long behind. A study of one person, for the first few times, is a study of all humanity. Ecce Homo! The eyes are sliced virtually, the top layers peeled away as a grape, the bottom layers ignored because they do not contribute on this level. The fish's eye is our new world. Each step, a whole new soliphism to explore, then to judge: keep or discard. To stretch our limbs in that place is to explore our new promised land, each step many times more meaningful than a walk of miles before.

While I am still tired, my back is wonderfully happy from that chair massage, and that makes much of my everyday life better.