All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts...
"Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae"Aristotle
"His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed up in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world 'This was a man!" Shakespeare..... Julius Caesar
"In sooth I know not why I am so sad, It wearies me..." Shakespeare......The Merchant of Venice
"And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of."
William Shakespeare
I have struggled to keep my "humours" in ayurvedic equilibrium, but for the past year the light of the moon has illuminated the corners of science and Mind has transformed Body accordingly; a nagging reminder of the physicality of thought and emotion....
As the constructs that take form from the interpolation of the politics of experience and our unconscious motivations, Life becomes, remains, and is transformed by will and desire and is transmogrified by the lives and intentions of other conscious beings, and perhaps by even the movement of boulders, loosing footing under great rainfall and brought by gravity to the canyon's depths......our perception of change modifying our fleeting sense of permanence and exasperating our innate will to control our own destiny; the increasing awareness that much of what forms our future is beyond conscious choice, having been predicated by genetic propensities, the leanings of will and the plans of others.....all overshadowed by the flux of the Universe which ultimately overtrumps even our most calculated choices and, not encumbered by determination, shows it's own indeterminate expressions which flow like lava from a great energy source toward the outer reaches of the yet frozen void....The meanings of the numbers ultimately lies in interpretation, their source in imagination and the next moment in the flash of decision....even Dr. Jacob Bernhardt cannot predict the trajectory of his own Life or another's tomorrows......for it is not a target that is the ultimate objective, but a subjective state of mind at the center of the storm within, reflecting the flexing of the matmos within a calmness that lies beyond the expression of energy into form at the fleeting perimeters of manifestation.....all of humanity gazes through the same portal into the incomprehensibility of tomorrow's tomorrows as the inchoateness is revealed in the twits of time and defined by the dogmatics of science, mathematics and other abhorrent religions.......we are all the stuff that dwells within us and all that lives without, both drawn into the other and repelled into isolation......such is the mechanics of the machine which all of existence fuels by being and which is imbued with infinitudes of meaning by the shape-shifters that emerge to consciousness and fall back to elemental clouds, drifting toward the expanse that is yet untouched by matter or energy... .
pragmatic sensualist, motivated by really deep instincts, actualized by willful imaginings and perpetuated by other's desires. Abstract, yet clear in purpose, honest, but abstruse, my moods change like winds and water with my confidences, and when ungrounded, i am both guarded and vulnerable, leaning, in darkness, to the Light, nurtured by instinctual feelings arising from a deep gene pool.
