I Has Dumb More Times

People may feel insignificant when contemplating the staggering size of the cosmos. What are we, on this planet, in this seemingly endless abyss? But look inside and there are things unimaginably small, and we are relatively empty if you consider the 50 trillion neutrinos which pass through your body every second. Neither are they smallest. Go be big as donkeys and quasars, all over the place.


Think of our existence here as being cast in a net, a membrane, something akin to a bubble, and we are on the surface of this bubble. But together, we make foam. Or bubble wrap. We are manifestations of endless forms of bubble wrap, and in quantum astrophysics, in order to get inside the smaller bubbles of subatomic particles, you necessarily need to pop one, creating a change. The pop is a release of energy accelerated by the force of your observation. In this way we find particles by smashing atoms together, and neutrinos have tons of bubble wrap around them. They don’t hardly touch anything. Pop all day, get tired and have a nap, you can’t find anything there. I could speculate all day on relative sizes of things, but it just leaves me feeling breathless. 

   So, I have the fortune of this maya with which I find myself fascinated. There is a discontinuous soup of different things going on I don’t pretend to fully understand. My dreams in my head at night have as much significance seemingly as my waking moments. My dreams are persuasively deeper than my real life as I explore emotional questions and situations in a few minutes that pass in my waking hours over the course of a lifetime.  I push and pull at one idea, and off shoots another, more curious and exciting. Am I a search engine, or am I merely the sum of the search? If nets didn’t have holes, then they could not pass through the sea. If our eyes did not have holes, then no light could pass within. So, I have more stupid than I have smart in me. I’ll continue to not know what the hell is going on. Good. And when I get tired of talking or thinking about that, I’ll go do something useful.

“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” Zen saying

Is it possible to visit a koan and get more meaning from it? I just thought of the wooden stylus, and the water in the ink used to write the calligraphy representing that thought. The act of writing that koan is the description of itself. It becomes more empty, more restful in my mind the more I take from it.

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