poems and commentary
I have had a fairly grueling day at work and can’t talk about it because of confidentiality. I do have one piece of advice in that you should never say you want to kill people in front of a psychiatrist. They react strongly to that. So instead for your reading pleasure a work in progress.
I believe I am a pattern, a pattern of information
Built of millions and millions of simplicities
Organized through Emergence, I arise up from the bottom
I am many, but still I am me!
And I believe I am a pattern, a consciousness construction
Will, sense, imagination, memory
And though I surely rise up from my body, I am much more a story
Told in the hearts of everyone who knows me.
What I want to communicate next in that ditty is Plato’s idea that behind everything that is there is an idea of that thing. Take a knife for example. Everyone has an idea in their head of what a knife is. Something thin and sharp that fits in your hand that you use to cut with. They may differ but largely all six billion of us humans think of roughly the same when we think of knife or whatever it is called in other languages. Did the idea of knife get created out of what, smaller pieces of information, individually six billion times, over and over throughout history. Or is there just one idea of knife that we all get to use. Occams razor says I am right that there is only one idea of knife. What if everything is like that. That everything that we think of as real is a reflection of the idea of those things and exists in this information universe outside of time and space.
I write a lot about consciousness. It intrigues me to no end “who I am” and the mystery of learning the intricacies of unadulterated identity, the root core. Once you realize you’re not your body, and not your thoughts or your feelings, or even your will although of all those it is the truest of that one where do you go? Of course to I am a story. Narrative therapy I have heard it called when you think of your life as a story and you seek to learn how to manipulate your character by the character at the end of the book that you want to be than from all that you have learned from the book you have already read. When I heard about this intervention it really resonated with ideas I had had a long time about choosing to live a novel instead of trying to write one.
Let me end with another poem about consciousness.
Magical Mystical Thing
My mind is a magical mystical thing
Gives me thoughts to think and words to sing
Gives me sights to see and sounds to hear
The feel of grass the taste of beer
My mind is a magical mystical thing
Hard to believe the feelings it brings
Like languorous and hot hot passion
A lust for truth a disdain for fashion
My mind is a magical mystical thing
A holy kingdom where wisdom is king
My pattern of the patterns of those I’ve loved the most
My motherfatherteacherfriends the Holy Ghost
My mind is a magical mystical thing
An integral part of the whole damn thing
My flowery signature in the Big Book of Life
My graffiti cave carvings with Plato’s knife
My mind is a magical mystical thing
It’s the horse I ride to the King of Kings
Thanks for reading this far.
Michael Trapp
July 31, 2007 9:31 pm
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