Entry 18 - On Distraction and The Nature of Words

I think that the English language doesn’t have enough words. The only way to describe things with no common name is to relate them to something else. Figurative language is so imperfect. My brain is itchy. Worse, it’s like the scrape you’ve scratched until it bleeds, but it still itches. There are some things that are so beautiful they act like calamine lotion and the itches eases for a while. Mornings, for instance. I love mornings. Everything smells fresh and cool. The light is soft but fills up every space. I like the way it gives auras, especially to plants. It kin of electrifies the green, almost like they were dipped in silver and left as sculpture or stained glass. I love waiting for the sun to crest the trees and chase away the chill. I love watching the light creep closer and closer to me as the sun rises. False dawn, where the world is cloaked in the deep blues and purples of night, cut into shapes by slow fingers of soft and subtle light. They uncover, like taking off a mask. Slowly, slowly they get touched with that same silver, until the whole world glitters like a transient treasure trove. We spend too much time inside. What can be so important that should take precedence over understanding our own nature and relation to NATURE? Inside and out. Why shouldn’t we explore the deeper facets to human consciousness and what that consciousness observes. Maybe the reason humans have such tumultuous lives is because we are actually unconscious. We use so little of our brains, we’re just sleeping through life. Time was, I could feel myself waking up, beginning to see what was really happening. Now, I think I just hit the snooze button again. Most of the eastern philosophy I know concerning this is convinced that humanity has created a waking dream for itself. A place where we see only what we have created to see. A place where we experiment with distraction – like a dream, ignoring reality to focus on and experiment with limited parts of truth. The more I think this, the lass able I am to connect with others on a social level. We talk about intention. Yoga done without intention or done with distraction is no longer yoga. How can you study celestial perfection when you are wallowing in the sewer of judgmentalism and chaotic thought? When you compare yourself to others, you are distracted. Like the wrestler who gained his strength from the earth, the distracted yogi loses her seat. The asanas are not the place where you develop strength. The mind must be strong so as to show the body what it must do. Convincing your mind to focus without distraction…there’s the rub. Everyone has this multiple personality disorder