Reality Test and Why I Love Travel.
I was talking to my roommate Natalie two days ago. I was in the bathroom after she had begun pouring bathwater, or perhaps it was after she had expressed interest in a bath, but before she had actually started the flow of the water in the tub. In any case, I noticed at that moment a profound insight. I exited the bathroom and went into the kitchen, where Natalie was standing, or at least would be moments after I entered the room, definitely facing and talking to me moments after either of those two events, whichever it might have been. I asked her, fully well knowing the answer ahead of time, if she would have been offended had she begun pouring bathwater, filled it partway, and then been subject to me sticking my feet ankle deep into the hot water. She was thoughtful in her answer, but resolute: "Yes, I would be disturbed by that." So, then I asked her if it would be disturbing had I jumped in a dry bathtub and stood in it, exited it, and then allowed Natalie to pour water into the tub. She said "No, I would not." So, my voice rang out, "When does it become offensive? How much water is required to slake your thirst for violence?" Assuredly, Natalie understood what I had understood first, that this was clearly an emotion, and therefore not real, not physical, not relevant, concocted as a crutch in the form of a wheelchair under an obese and emotional person.
This is the first test of reality that I have stumbled upon, let there be light. It was mesmerizing.
A few minutes ago I discovered why I love travel. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth. I put my brush with Natalie's absconded and doomed toothpaste under the water and remarked how much I liked to do that, freely without worry of bacteria or baby alligators. In Brazil, from where I had just returned, the water has bacteria which can be harmful, and especially to foreigners' vacations. You cannot trust that the water will be clean, so you wash your toothbrush only after you have brushed your teeth. This means of course that there is a momentary sensation of dry toothpaste in your mouth, and your salivia glands, which are probably already working overtime, as mine have been known to do, need to put in that extra little effort to moisten the toothpaste and prepare for the scrubbing. Without travel I would never have known this tiny moment of bliss. For me this was a sublime realization. Of course this is also almost a miracle for my spiritual path work, for I truly saw God and was present to it and in only five days from the end of the Landmark Advanced Course.
Natalie suggested when I recounted this that I had a lot of revelations while standing in the bathroom.
I might be worried that all the emotional work I am doing will be worthless anyway, as cyborgs are gradually infiltrating our lives. The new toaster I have is probably closer to human life than my cat. What good is learning communication skills which are problematic only because of emotions and stories behind the communication itself, when robots do not, and will not ever have emotions? When I finally figure out who my inner angry child is and what he has written in his drool it will be too late regardless as his aged projection will be dealing with strictly silicone. I wish it was not so, but of course I am partially to blame for it all.
I was talking to my roommate Natalie two days ago. I was in the bathroom after she had begun pouring bathwater, or perhaps it was after she had expressed interest in a bath, but before she had actually started the flow of the water in the tub. In any case, I noticed at that moment a profound insight. I exited the bathroom and went into the kitchen, where Natalie was standing, or at least would be moments after I entered the room, definitely facing and talking to me moments after either of those two events, whichever it might have been. I asked her, fully well knowing the answer ahead of time, if she would have been offended had she begun pouring bathwater, filled it partway, and then been subject to me sticking my feet ankle deep into the hot water. She was thoughtful in her answer, but resolute: "Yes, I would be disturbed by that." So, then I asked her if it would be disturbing had I jumped in a dry bathtub and stood in it, exited it, and then allowed Natalie to pour water into the tub. She said "No, I would not." So, my voice rang out, "When does it become offensive? How much water is required to slake your thirst for violence?" Assuredly, Natalie understood what I had understood first, that this was clearly an emotion, and therefore not real, not physical, not relevant, concocted as a crutch in the form of a wheelchair under an obese and emotional person.
This is the first test of reality that I have stumbled upon, let there be light. It was mesmerizing.
A few minutes ago I discovered why I love travel. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth. I put my brush with Natalie's absconded and doomed toothpaste under the water and remarked how much I liked to do that, freely without worry of bacteria or baby alligators. In Brazil, from where I had just returned, the water has bacteria which can be harmful, and especially to foreigners' vacations. You cannot trust that the water will be clean, so you wash your toothbrush only after you have brushed your teeth. This means of course that there is a momentary sensation of dry toothpaste in your mouth, and your salivia glands, which are probably already working overtime, as mine have been known to do, need to put in that extra little effort to moisten the toothpaste and prepare for the scrubbing. Without travel I would never have known this tiny moment of bliss. For me this was a sublime realization. Of course this is also almost a miracle for my spiritual path work, for I truly saw God and was present to it and in only five days from the end of the Landmark Advanced Course.
Natalie suggested when I recounted this that I had a lot of revelations while standing in the bathroom.
I might be worried that all the emotional work I am doing will be worthless anyway, as cyborgs are gradually infiltrating our lives. The new toaster I have is probably closer to human life than my cat. What good is learning communication skills which are problematic only because of emotions and stories behind the communication itself, when robots do not, and will not ever have emotions? When I finally figure out who my inner angry child is and what he has written in his drool it will be too late regardless as his aged projection will be dealing with strictly silicone. I wish it was not so, but of course I am partially to blame for it all.
serillian:
I'm honored to be your first friend up here, especially with what you have written in your intro... i guess wisdom is knowing when to change your mind.