Monday, May 6, 2013

Whistling Past the Graveyard....

We all do it. But something I recently understood was that everything we do is simply that. Our daily rituals...everything from trimming nose hairs to checking what day it is with the newspaper, is us, whistling and stringing momentary lapses from the fear of death into one long sense of ignorance and bliss. A simple joy... like the first sip of a favorite beverage on a hot day...a smile from a friend...realizing there are other people out there that think like you...everything we do throughout our conscious and subconscious day is just a path to that bliss. It is psychic survival. So I've decided to craft my whistling into something meaningful. Something more than just a comfortable feeling once I reach the end of the cemetery grounds. I could just learn "Ol' Man River," or commit to memory the entirety of "Dark Side of the Moon." That would work. But too much work. Carlos Castaneda had me going for a while...till I learned his stories were fiction. Even then, the concept of believing Death to be always on your right hand was beneficial and kept me on my toes. So accepting truths from a fictional sorcerer was no more silly than believing religion will save me. So I whistle...in all my ways to whistle and...come to think of it...I think my whistle needs wetting. One way to remain comfortably numb:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jySUpMqmzd4 

2 comments:

  1. Hi Mike
    Love your stuff. wish we could get together sometime and share this stuff
    My recent thought brought me to people are part of a village we are so much more alike than maybe we think we are. that is our village, people like you and me we seek it every day to be part of a think tank of like minded people. the older I get the less I want to be around those who are not like me maybe it is too much work? too much compromise. at my age life is too short to keep having to explain yourself and not just be yourself with no explanation. I seek knowledge listen to podcast of science freethinkers atheist it fills me with wonder to see the world as it is not what some guy in the sky says it is. boy did I just do a rant...
    Love
    your sister
    Barbara

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  2. Just say the word about getting together. I miss you. There was a friend you made at work that thinks like you. Still seeing her? We do need our village for our sanity. I love your rants...have one more often. Love, Mike.

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