Rambly Journal Entry #1

August 28, 2009

Powell's Books. Downtown. Portland, Oregon.

I'm here to be in the presence of the books. Dead tree tombs/tomes full of... wow! All these thoughts from human minds, so many words, vastly more than even the people in this city, this state, country, ~ world? I like books. They comfort me, they give me the feeling that if I just try hard enough, I'll eventually find the answers I'm searching for. Some books are pretty, some contain wisdom, probably most are different versions of the same thing repeated over and over again by someone finding it all for the fist time (and thinking they've stumbled upon something special, indeed!). In other words, most of it is crap because we live in a world that requires us to make a bunch of crappy stuff in order to keep feeding the grown-up game machine, also called "the economy". Luckily, buried beneath all the shit is some real gold, which is what I seek. Unfortunately, even the gold can't tell me what to do with my life. Only I can make that call... only.... I can't. Sometimes, I wish life would happen to me in a way that makes it all a lot more simple. I'm mired in the illusion that I have too many choices and no choices at all. I continually teeter-totter, hesitating to jump off the damn thing and try the swing or slide instead. I could do this, or I could do that, my mind will venture, but if I do this, I'll miss that and if I do that, I'll probably just fall on my ass. This is an interesting notion, cause, I'm most likely already on my ass - which is what I need to get off of, as opposed to doubling up on. So that's it. I'm in this huge bookstore, seeking that Holy Grail, the meaning of MY life and the elusive road map and necessary tools needed to fulfill the purpose that goes along with the meaning. The sad irony is that, while I may find some inspiration, I know full-well there's no such guiding light to be found among these books... not really. In my experience, the only place that light can be found is in the dark. By dark I mean, the nothingness that is everything, the only pure thing in existence, which is not a thing at all. It lies within that which is many named, yet cannot be named. It is within me and beyond, all around, everywhere. I am that thing and I am separate from it. Only in this present moment, can I know my path. Right now, my path is dark. So be it.