I believe some activities put the brain in a meditative state and when I go out to look for my lost slingshot balls, I often find myself in a sort of trance.
I think the universe or God or the Tao – take your pick – speaks to us in symbols so if I apply that to me looking for the balls, I come to a few conclusions:
They’re hidden but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist (or do they exist only when observed)? You can walk past one and not see it only to have it become visible when you turn around and look at it from a different angle.
What we see depends on our point of view. I believe that is a fundamental precept of the universe.
Is this force one thing viewed from an infinite number of perspectives? Has God created us to experience time and space through ourselves? Am I full of shit?
My daughter once said to me “if you want to know what’s going on in your subconscious, take a look around you”. That makes sense if we create what we think.
I believe everything already exists at the same time but we see only what we choose to see – like tuning the dial on a radio.
Looking for my slingshot balls helps me to access frequencies I don’t normally use, therefore, slingshotting must be Godly. 🙂
In my quest to better myself and my life, I’ve decided to take up meditation and in my husband’s quest for mushrooms (no, not psychedelics), he stumbled upon a whopper.
A Giant Western Puffball eight inches in diameter weighing nine pounds.
It looks eerily like a human skull and it’s now in my freezer.
I’ve known about puffballs for years and have collected and cooked them but I had no idea we had these enormous masses growing in the Pacific Northwest. They are edible and taste and feel much like tofu from what I’ve read.
We put it on Craigslist.
As for meditation, I need to learn how to shut out the gunshots as my neighbor is target shooting.
I’m interested in rewiring my brain and apparently meditation helps to accomplish that. I previously saw it as a “hippy” thing to do but there’s research now that shows it’s super effective in changing for the better.
Meditating temporarily disengages your mind with the subconsciousness making it easier to replace negative with positive attitudes.
I’m starting off with short intervals that I can do while the neighbor reloads.
If you’re looking for authoritative pieces on this and that – keep looking.
You see, I’m no authority on just about everything. What you’ll find here are my personal experiences, thoughts on things, and some poetry with odd themes such as solar power and Halloween.
I’m the first one to admit I’m not perfect. I have a really bad anger problem along with depression and anxiety.
Neither me nor my husband have our shit together by any stretch of the imagination. When we made the big move from our suburban home to a wildly different setting, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about it but I am not offering advice because I probably shouldn’t.
We are self-professed eccentrics; responsible people wannabes. We’re secure enough with ourselves to admit we envy others who seem to have perfect lives. We are the ones who show up at the farmers market to sell something only to discover the seller down the row has four times the inventory, professionally displayed with matching business cards (that really happened).
I’d like to think that we represent the archetypal underdog -that part of our collective consciousness that we hide from each other’s view. I hope that by being honest about ourselves, we can reassure others who suffer from less-than-perfect syndrome.
As a matter of fact, we like being a little off. We’re intelligent and kind and we revel in our off-ness. We are castaways on The Island Of Misfits. In a nutshell, we have low self-esteem but we also think we’re pretty cool. Reconcile that.
I think we all struggle with the idea that we have aspects of ourselves we love and some we loath and they have to occupy the same space in our heads. Just stay on your own sides of the room.
So we’re not perfect, and we didn’t have the picture-perfect display when I sold necklaces at the farmer’s market. We’re the kind of people who’ll use duct tape when we’re supposed to be using electrical. Why?
Because we either can’t afford it, don’t want to do it the right way or don’t know how.
Little white marbles – four hundred of them – lost.
Out into the trees, into the ditch, under layers of pine needles and behind clumps of dirt. Like gold, they quickly find their way to the deepest recesses where I can barely see them. When I run out, it’s time to forage.
One day while I was wandering around looking for the balls, the act of concentrating seemed to put me into a trance. I became contemplative and wondered if the universe communicates to us through symbols and if so, could I learn something from rambling around looking for marbles?
What if each ball represented a truth? Then the following might apply:
They are sometimes easier to find in the darkness rather than the light.
The harder you look for them the more they seem to elude you.
Sometimes they are right in front of you and you don’t see them.
Sometimes you walk right over them only to spot them when looking from a different perspective.
Some get buried in the dirt but they still remain visible if you look closely enough.
They are all around you but you don’t always see them.
They seem to appear magically in front of you with the right frame of mind.
Just when you think you’ve found them all there are always more.
Although they seem lost forever, they are there, somewhere. Or are they?
Are they there when observed and gone when not?
They are more visible with an open mind.
Some travel farther than others.
Picking them out of the pine needles can hurt.
You can drive yourself crazy looking for them in the snow or you can be patient and wait till Spring when they will reveal themselves.
Where the hell do the ones I never find go? Does some gopher have a living room full of them?