Insomnia:
So I'm reading Thich Nhat Hanh (one of the biggest spiritual influences in my life) and he says "There is nothing like experience" (this is a section from No Death, No Fear). This leads him to elaborate "If there is a person who has never eaten a tangerine or a durian fruit, however many images or metaphors you give him, you cannot describe to him the reality of those fruits". This is the differentiation between mind and being. Mind is the machine, the tool, the describer and comparer; it can never really know anything, which is the problem for people who are identified with their mind. The real essence of who we are, is the knower, the experiencer, the silent watcher who takes in everything that we go through in life. So the question I ask now is, is it the same with love? Do we have to experience love before we can know love? Does it defy explanation and definition because those tools of the mind are incapable of acting as a substitute for the real thing? I suppose a question I could also pose is whether or not love is a construct of the mind. If so, then does it even have an existence other than in ideas and concepts? Is it a real experience? My knee jerk response is that this is a silly argument, and of course love exists. I won't know until I am able to clear my mind and exist as the silent watcher that already knows all that there is to know.
Observation:
I'm now going to make a broad, sweeping generalization based which I will not exclude myself from. Let me start by pointing out that the idea of a journal has undergone a transformation in our lifetime, as far as I can tell. Once upon a time the journal was a sacred tome in which one would confine one's secrets. It was the impartial listener that allowed a person to feel and believe taboos and to make an account of their ventures in the socially forbidden territories. Now, the journal is online. It is, in most cases, for all to see. It is a tool that does not hide the thoughts and feelings and experiences that people record, but advertises them. People who use them seem to me to be acting out of some feeling of disconnection. They are seeking out validation, or recognition, someone or some people that they can resonate with. I'm not sure if there is a difference, or if I'm missing something important in all of this. It's late, I can't sleep, and I'm trying to exhaust my brain enough to fall asleep.
So I'm reading Thich Nhat Hanh (one of the biggest spiritual influences in my life) and he says "There is nothing like experience" (this is a section from No Death, No Fear). This leads him to elaborate "If there is a person who has never eaten a tangerine or a durian fruit, however many images or metaphors you give him, you cannot describe to him the reality of those fruits". This is the differentiation between mind and being. Mind is the machine, the tool, the describer and comparer; it can never really know anything, which is the problem for people who are identified with their mind. The real essence of who we are, is the knower, the experiencer, the silent watcher who takes in everything that we go through in life. So the question I ask now is, is it the same with love? Do we have to experience love before we can know love? Does it defy explanation and definition because those tools of the mind are incapable of acting as a substitute for the real thing? I suppose a question I could also pose is whether or not love is a construct of the mind. If so, then does it even have an existence other than in ideas and concepts? Is it a real experience? My knee jerk response is that this is a silly argument, and of course love exists. I won't know until I am able to clear my mind and exist as the silent watcher that already knows all that there is to know.
Observation:
I'm now going to make a broad, sweeping generalization based which I will not exclude myself from. Let me start by pointing out that the idea of a journal has undergone a transformation in our lifetime, as far as I can tell. Once upon a time the journal was a sacred tome in which one would confine one's secrets. It was the impartial listener that allowed a person to feel and believe taboos and to make an account of their ventures in the socially forbidden territories. Now, the journal is online. It is, in most cases, for all to see. It is a tool that does not hide the thoughts and feelings and experiences that people record, but advertises them. People who use them seem to me to be acting out of some feeling of disconnection. They are seeking out validation, or recognition, someone or some people that they can resonate with. I'm not sure if there is a difference, or if I'm missing something important in all of this. It's late, I can't sleep, and I'm trying to exhaust my brain enough to fall asleep.
Maybe because someone else, (you) examines their life just as much as I do so I don't feel so odd and I know that I do not know it all and am not expected to in a lifetime and with every bit I learn more I feel better.
The evolution of a journaling mass. I believe that it is a part of a people knowing themselves and ultimatley each other's thought, feelings and being more open and communicative in general. Think Global Possiblities or right next door. Give it 50 years. Look back, then imagine forward. Have to get over fear first.