Just for the records

On taking stock of whats there on my board today, there are the things i had been working on - vocabulary learning, phonetics, cognitive trainings, sketching, my take home from the stuff learned from people i have interacted with, my hopes, my struggles, things that people have chosen to leave with me, me, and the whole world with whatever it has to offer, which is quite a lot i fathom from my vantage point as of today. I also have the space for my simple likes and dislikes, for my silliness, quite naive mistakes, unpolished even crude mannerisms that i feel ok going through. Feel human in a way that i have watched other people being but could not allow me to be or think of me as being, or to think that these are the movements through which every child goes through on its way to learning something worthwhile; that i could be going through similar motions en route did not occur to me until now. Being human.

Documenting a 'historical' moment in my personal life...for my records.

Took a step today. Bought myself an eisel. In wood. It is the elephant in the room after the treatment couch. Incidentally the eisel made me aware that the couch is the biggest elephant, as it should be, as I want it to be in a certain sense. But of course in the end each thread weaves into an embroidery like an orchestra the feel of which determines its oxygen'ness and oxyneableness.

The amoeba in me

..is carving a niche in everyman's (and everywoman's) land. In the jostle for space and recognition, is tippy-toed'ly yet with a bravado that only someone who has not dared be seen for who they are can have once in a while, like an amoeba venturing out its pseudopods before rolling into its next step well aware of its vulnerable position and yet also its need to move. For reasons of its own and also larger than its own. Because it is alive.

Un'familiar'izing.

The sands have been sifting for a while now, more in a direction that has me see that it is for me to move and it is just my movement that will have anything work. There is not gonna be anyone proding, nurturing, encouraging. Support will come only if I compromise and dance in some manner to someone else's tune but that world will not have me in it, and it is too high a price to pay for too low a life.

My journey has seemed for sometime now a fight: A fight against conformity, compromise, attachment, enslavery, mindless monotony, stagnation, falling in line with the familiar that has been survived through to rags, persistence of dis-ease. My journey is to health. It is worth fighting for. And Life does find a way.

Yellowing out!

Accident! T-bone'd with a bike! Accident on a vehicle first time ever..and now I can say I have that experience too!

And then a blackout (have blackedout earlier at a much younger age, when I couldnt care less about observing how the experience was except bask in the attention it brought)...and I find it is not really black out but more like yellow out. Everything went yellow for a while before the next thing i could remember as waking up on the floor with a vague recollection of hitting my shoulder, I think, on something, which turned out to be the floor.

And then, there are other things going on by which i can gauge if I am ready to get up and bear moving again or not (obvious to many perhaps but interesting while observing it happening detached from my body as though the body occupies a space a lil different from the one where I as an observer am in).

Left leg swollen and skinned a bit, and then a certain stiffness sets in, as though the body in that part shields itself or perhaps it is just resistance against further onslaught, and the stiffness is much like the numbness that the mind has to shield from an onslaught of whatever that is a lil too much to handle or want to handle.

It is the body's time now, to talk in its own language, and for me to listen for it now demands my attention.

moving to not move

Nothing has really changed yet nothing is the same. The spaces are the same yet the spaces are not the same. I have moved i thought only to find i am more now where i started than when i started. Strange but not so strange: I may be running to come home to me. Nothing has changed: nothing has changed.

Transitions..movements..anxieties

Choices. Being current and relevant. Social intelligence. Being true to ones own sense of decorum/propriety/inner integrity and exploring options. I am in a transitory phase (again) of finding a common ground that allows for the latter while retaining the essence of the former, inclusive of the uncertainty if the need for retention is also a means to stay in the comfort zone. Nevertheless, of the several options available, there is still a choice, an act of free will, on how one chooses to live ones life.

To catch the bull by its horns.

A way of being that has a willingness more than fear, an ‘iv had enough’ more than ‘what next,’ energy more than patience, action more than thought, here and now more than ‘consequences.’

Ventilation

Cynicism thinly wafts through the sometimes chugging, sometimes well-oiled, sometimes indolent workings of the mind with fresh air breezing in through half-open windows and small cracks in the walls of the mind. Stagnant air gently circulates mingled with the fresh air, the cynicism sometimes venting out in words mingled just as quietly with sprouts of premeditated words, realized to have been vented only when the cyncism comes sizzlingly in contact with the ear. The walls of the mind seem to be getting old and more willing to crack further but perhaps need a pressure buildup of fresh nurturing cleansing air passing through it. Air hunger.

Dinner tonight at my place

Lets dine tonight. Lets make it potluck. Please bring your dish of experiences through living, your dreams, your fears, hopes and wishes, anxieties, the things you have seen and felt and thought of people, circumstances and life itself. If you like, you could invite your people too and ask them to bring their dishes along just as I have you. Lets dine together after the hustle of the day, at a time when idle contemplation can find expression along with a reflection on the lessons learned through the day, and rehear the melody that connects us with everything that sometimes fades out of awareness in the hustle of making it through life. Lets dine to rehear that melody and rejuvinate our life systems before sleep does the same to our bodies, and be born again.

Listening to the body..allowing for its movement

In this part of my journey, slow almost meditative movements calms, opens space, and has it be easy for the mind and body to come to a kind of truce for the while instead of the almost constant different directions and speeds that both want to go in. If not for this pace, it is much like managing children/people with different temperaments.

Movement

Deal with completion, not incompletion. If considered that anything that moves is possibility and all else is concerns/reactions/effects and more reactions, and they are all valid no matter how bizarre they may seem, then wonder if only dealing with the completion would be all that is required. The shortest distance to cover the gap and most economical.

Freedom to be is when..

The ultimate inaduthenticity is that there is any innate significance to me or to life. It is when the ultimate inauthenticity is accepted and owned that any freedom to be becomes possible.

Growing up

I fought to have a space in which I could choose for myself all through the teen and growing up years and when I do get to choose, I have a problem with that! And now I got to be responsible for making the choices too! This must be further evidence that being in the comfort zone includes everything that is also familiar including the struggles, the discomfort, unhealthy stimulus along with the things that makes one feel comforted and safe. Whoever said being grown up was all fun and wonder why was all that hurry to be grown up!

Labor's child

Had forgotten the warm comforting embrace of music (of a work of art from careful labor), of care taken in minute details, of surrender to create something bigger than oneself and of the solace and strength that of itself is to one and all it touches, moves and inspires. Where there is no longer the artist but a life that are the creator's carefully chosen moments strung together over time and now complete and having a life of its own.

World in words

A world lies open to the one listening - a world that lies in the words, sequence of words, and between the words - woven from the fabric of the speaker/writer’s mind. Entropy and analysis and whatever else be kept aside. The uniqueness of the person is getting worded, if only one cares to listen.

Words - limit and liberation

The pull towards the whirlpool of confusion and directionlessness thereof, as in a sense of being lost, is the sometimes limiting need to put things in words. Once distinguished, the apt words opens up pathways and shears through confusions and dilemmas while when undistinguished, words lead to confusion and directionlessness, the latter of which is perhaps the reason for my earlier aversion to words and for thinking of them to be necessary evil.


If so, what determines the readiness to use words that opens pathways vs otherwise? Guess written and thought words have their own pace to discern which is which, just as the person has a pace at which learning when to do what is discerned, and it may perhaps be on a kind of universal developmental scale of learning. And the scale may have an in vs out, expressed vs unexpressed, giving vs receiving, action vs inaction, noise vs silence, distinguishing vs retrospection, etc, parameters to determine who is at what level.

Observations..

Interesting how when a generalization is made, the concern of 'me?' comes up. The tentacle-like concern of 'belongingness and acceptance' that underlies the human condition, that has one depend on and stay attached in the web called 'society' revealing itself in those very unmeditated/unguarded moments. Else, it is the assertion of 'im independent!,'...as if.
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Doesnt stop amazing me how people react to an as-lived experience i share. Concern mixed with an induced thought/thinking mixed with looking-through-the-known-into-unknown curiosity flits across the expressions...and with those 'space' movements, i go through my own set of 'spaces' of 'am i normal' 'is that ok' 'maybe im doing it wrong' 'havent you seen this' 'how come u dint experience this' 'do you really live or just live a rote' 'its ok' 'im having my experience, they theirs' -- from a space disturbing chaos to a kinda equilibrium where things fall back into 'whats so' space. And, i dont tire of experiementing this with another and another. A world of discovery.
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"Be kind more than necessary to whomsoever you meet, for each is fighting their own battle.'
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Duchenne smile practise is going through the whole gammut of 'not Duchenne' phases...or rather the 'not Duchenne'ness is getting identified. That which is missing is making its presence known by its absence, more like it.

Rose is a rose is a rose-

There is benefit in movement as well as in standing still. Neither benefits are worth being compensated by anything, nor replaced by apparent alternatives. A form is a form is a form. (read, Plato's Form)

Random thoughts linked. Again, is random really so random? Maybe nothing is really 'nonsense.'

Can the moment be not savored in all its flavors, see the colors inherent, sense the depths, experience the width and space...savor the moment before choosing where to go next with peace right here and now and not to be sought at the end of it? Can it all not be gotten with velocity, the distance and the moments' fullness all as if in a flash, in toto...or the moment's fullness in toto in a flash even while speeding towards what needs be gotten to? If it is realms to be experienced to have access to the domain that creates realms, then velocity in the milestones, connections, and movements needs be consistent to do that which needs be done.

What if it all comes to that what needs be done is not out there but where i could get to? Would perfection that i resist then be gotten as an experience? what then? what lies beyond 'perfection'? Monotony is boring. is it then Jonathan's next world? Is it all gonna be experienced as an illusion? the limitation of the senses limiting what could be possible, creating the illusion of the limit? Will it all be experienced, as there being more than the senses? the - range of the senses and the whole range of unnamed/undiscovered senses? .. the things that brings everything together in a continous steam of consciousness? Would that be the other side of darkness ? (.)