Since I had yesterday off, today was my Monday. Work went well enough. Getting in my car to come home, my door wouldn't close. Seat belt must be in the way, I thought. Nope. My coat? Nope. Oh, so the door's fucked up? Yup. With all the troubles my car has had, I did not expect this one. The drive home was interesting. I'll leave it at that. When I got home, I managed to shut the door. I'll be coming and going through the passenger side for a while until I can figure out what's going on.
The comedy of errors continued when I got home, but I don't want to relive any of it, if you don't mind. Trying not give energy to unpleasant things. It wasn't so bad, but one thing on top of the other.... you know how that can go. And, it's fucking cold, son!
I called my grandmother earlier. Her hearing aid is on the fritz. Here's a sample of our conversation.
Me: The door wouldn't shut
Nana: You've had enough?
Me: No, the door, the door to my car, it wouldn't shut
Nana: You're in your car?
Me: THE DOOOOOORR WOULD NOOOOT SHUUUUTT.
Nana: You shut the door?
Me: No, um, anyway, how are things with you?
Poor woman can't hear or see very well anymore. Yet she's getting around and looks good, better than she did a couple of years ago when I thought she was going to die.
Been meditating and trying to see, in my every day life, how rampant my thoughts are. Verdict: they are rampant. Been reading The Power Of Now, which has been very instructive and a treat to read (thanks, Janellio for letting me borrow it). One thing Tolle states eloquently and succinctly in the book is that time is an illusion. When you think about it, you realize it truly is. The past does not exist, except in memory and the future does not exist except in our fantasies of what we think or hope it will be. So, if you take away the past and the future, you're left with only with the present, which is Now. All we truly have is Now, the rest is illusion.
Concurrently, I'm reading Lynne McTaggart's The Intention Experiment, her follow up to The Field, which delves into the mysteries of quantum physics and the power of intention. Great stuff.
At work today, Tim, one of the Attorneys, told a few of us about a book he was reading about a nineteenth century expedition to Antarctica. I asked him if it was about Shackleton. He said it was fiction, more supernatural, like a Stephen King novel. I knew right away he was talking about Dan Simmon's book The Terror, a book I've been meaning to read for awhile. Tim's copy of the book was a limited edition from Subterranean Press, a small Sci Fi/ Fantasy publisher. I'm dying to ask him about the authors he reads. I always get excited when I meet someone with similar reading tastes, especially when they're of the Fantasy variety.
Even though Tolkien was arguably the greatest and most influential author of the last one hundred years, the genre he virtually created, Fantasy, has never been taken seriously in so-called literary circles. To me, a good story is a good story, no matter how it's labeled. Even some of the genre's authors try to distance themselves from it by calling their work Speculative Fiction. Ridiculous. All fiction is more or less speculative and since it's not "real", it's all fantasy anyway. Geez! I digress. Let's finish this post.
It's true: Dirty Projectors are incredible!
Ok, time to get my Tudors on.
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1 comment:
I have a couple of comments about this post. Like to hear them...here they go:
1. That conversation that you had with your Grandmother was very familiar to me, my entire family has had that exact coversation with my grandmother countless times.
2. That whole time is an illusion thing has always frustrated me, well...really it is just philosophy in general. I have always had a love-hate relationship with it because of the lack of conretes. However, I really enjoy having those types of discussions with people because they can be extremely interesting at times. (Depending on the people ofcourse)
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