Giving away the game is taking people to the back of the book. The spoilers. Why do some people not like getting spoilers? It ruins the game for some people. It spoils the movie. Not everyone wants to know how the sausage is made. They want to remain in the fantasy, the illusion.
So if/when I do give the spoilers does that mean I need to tell the story better? Maybe. I like that. Or must I must remain cognizant as to how much I gate what I tell… shouldn’t I? Does that make me a gate keeper? Is this why I struggle so to be one? To hide or obfuscate or narrow what I really think? And who is the gate keeping for the sake of anyway? Roles? Ego? The person? Well, what is the person BUT the persona? The masks we put on. In the times of Shakespeare, the actors would wear masks with outwardly-shaped mouths in order to project their voices into the crowd. The cast of characters would be listed alongside the personas for whom they played.
I think we must ask this question: MUST the group survive? Moreover, must the persona survive to save the man? Or does the persona need to die to save the man? To make him or her anew? Are we talking about a play still or are we talking about reality? And lastly, are the two indistinguishable? So many things to consider before talking. Before saying something to reality.
Perhaps then I must submit to the gate. Not to the gate-keeper, manifest in myself. So often my intentions get confused with my own agendas, and when the wrong man uses the right means, the right means work in the wrong way. To the gate, then. What is the gate, you ask? Time. No. More than time. Space time. Space time is the almighty gate that determines when and how and when the veil of our personal reality is removed. We can fight that and pull the band aid. Damning the costs is always easier on someone else’s arm too. Easier yet carried out by someone else. How did that one go?
Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.
Yeah, that one.
Or we can reveal what the environment permits. Speak when the space calls to do so - and respect the space itself, for if it weren’t for the space between the notes, music would be a constant drone devoid of rhythm. It would just be a pervading noise in your ears that never waxed or waned.
In our current times, silence is often the only respect that can be paid when the pervading narrative is to merely wait for your turn to talk, always having the last word with a counterpoint or validation… a pervading noise in your ears that never waxes or wanes.
People do still need to breathe though. We haven’t teched our way out of the oxygen/carbon dioxide gas exchange system. The vocal cords can’t vibrate sound when taking a breath in after-all.
So, what have the people done to course correct? The breath stays high and in the chest. It shortens, and paradoxically, it speeds up. Fast, short, throat and chest breaths. Just enough to force more air across the vocal cords. “Course-correct” suddenly evokes a different feeling.
I find myself embracing silence more these days. Not in retreat. No, not at all. In reverence. In quiet contemplation of the space between the notes. If I can deepen my breath perhaps the people around me will deepen theirs. And it’s pace will slow, and theirs too…
The path of silence isn’t one of luxury. Yielding the floor yields the attention. Not a prospect everyone looks down with excitement or without protest. But you know what silence doesn’t do? Silence doesn’t compete for the most compelling narrative. But my ego does. And that, my friends can get brutal. And when I let it out to play or bring the light to it, my ego does what everyone else’s does. It takes the floor and works to its ability to hold the limelight. And if that position doesn’t or won’t yield, I can tell you with great assurances that the prognosis is fatal.
This is not a command from on high to “course correct” or to do anything for that matter. Too many people with guns, money, or state power are doing plenty right now because they think they know what’s best for everyone else. My path is mine and mine alone. Many have walked ones not too dissimilar. Many will follow after me. But my gait creates those pesky decimal points that make math so frustrating sometimes. The individual articulation. And I don’t round up or down anymore. Unless I forget it (not uncommon) I share the number of successful trips I’ve gone around the sun, and 6 inches is 6 inches.
Space time will determine the information that is shared when people are together. I can take you to the back of the book, but as Jules said to the late Vincent Vega, “If my answers frighten you, then you should cease asking scary questions.” Some people like that stuff. I do. I always loved the behind-the-scenes stuff and directors’ commentary on DVDs.
I can read the room though… on my good days, at least. Deeply examining reality is just too scary for some people. Sometimes you have to stare down the barrel of reality to see it as a circle instead of a straight line.
This can be quite daunting. Some people avoid such introspection their entire lives. Some people make it their life’s mission. We can meet in the middle... Somewhere along the path.
I’m still a rascal though so, as it is written in Latin - Caveat Emptor: buyer beware. I push people. And 2+2 does indeed equal 4. And when I meet those along the path who refuse that math, I’m going to try and round out those decimal points. Not up or down. Not to assuage or convince. If you let me close enough, and I do start talking, I will take your attachments through their conclusions ad infinitum. I’m a curious bugger. In my curiosity I will always seek, whatever lies beyond the surface. And in the nature and spirit of the watercourse way:
The Tao neither moves to the left nor the right. It is like still water. Transparent as it is deep. Reflective like a mirror to the world around it.
If we stay in a place long enough so that we become that place, what would one become if that place, they remained was in this state of Tao?
This. This is what it looks like. Salud.