What if the distractions of imagination are invitations to return to serenity?

I spend enormous amounts of time following the train of thought which begins with, “What if…” But I’m not thinking about catastrophes! I’m just endlessly distracted by things I think of which I could do.

Cynicism is quite good at masquerading as wisdom. Pattern recognition is valuable — we should learn from history and past failures. But pattern recognition becomes pattern imprisonment when it blinds us to genuinely new possibilities.

~ Joan Westenberg, from We Don’t Need More Cynics. We Need More Builders.

For example. I was utterly distracted by realizing that catastrophe does not end in ‘-y’ — wait. WAT? I would have bet a good sum it ended in ‘y’ and that the plural ended in ‘-ies’. I was wrong. Which was followed immediately by: “What if there are other, not-that-rare words which I don’t know how to spel?” I immediately began thinking of getting some spelling flashcards, or writing my own little software to word-a-day myself. You see? “What if…”

Watch what people are cynical about, and one can often discover what they lack.

~ George S. Patton

I’m cynical about serenity. (Note that I am not cynical about Firefly.) I aspire to serenity. I catch glimpses of serenity. But I don’t get to hang out there long because “what if…” entices me to revert to a human doing.

Listening is the dark matter of conversation, a mysterious activity that shapes the cosmos of any society or relationship. A friend who is a good listener can turn an ordinary conversation into a life-changing one, though we’re more likely to recall what they said (the evidence of their listening) than the listening itself. We shout, we sing, we whisper, we rhyme, but describing our listening is difficult, and its lexicon less obvious. What if we thought of ourselves as ‘listening’ animals, equipped and adapted to receive language, rather than as animals that talk?

~ Faith Lawrence, from Rilke and the art of listening as a way to shape the cosmos

I’ve often thought about how consciousness seems to arise out of the complexity and activity of our minds. It seems to make sense that it arose very early in my existence, and it will subside. That makes my consciousness an infinitesimally brief flicker in the life of the universe. So consciousness is a rare, and precious, thing which appears only when conditions are just right.

Celebrate the childlike mind. From what I can see, the best scientists and engineers nurture a childlike mind. They are playful, open-minded, and unrestrained by the inner voice of reason, collective cynicism, or fear of failure.

~ Steve Jurvetson

What if serenity is the opposite sort of thing? What if, any time I’m conscious, my default state is perfect serenity? That would imply I should stop disturbing myself out of that serenity; Turns out there are several major religions and philosophies which have been trying to tell me that.

I knew traditional goals were an outdated relic of a bygone era, but I hadn’t figured out what to replace them with. After all, they seem like such a load-bearing pillar of modern society: you set an objective, you make a plan, and then you follow the steps to get there.

What other approach could there even be?

~ Tiago Forte, from The Death of Goals

I’m not certain I agree with Forte. I will say though that striving (which implicitly means striving towards something like any goal) messes me up every time. This is the eternal dichotomy of being and doing. Perhaps the best answer to life’s question is simply to be aware that these two things exist. Not to strive to balance them, but simply to be aware of their relative manifestations in each of our lives.

…if you can forgive as well as forget, if you can keep from growing sour, surly, bitter and cynical… You’ve got it half-licked.

~ Henry Miller

Have you looked at Miller’s bibliography? I want to read Stand Still Like the Hummingbird just based on the title (and maybe The Air Conditioned Nightmare as well.) With Stand Still… was he referring to the more obvious observation about their flight, or had he seen them land? Because while they are amazing in flight, when they land and literally stand still, it’s like a glitch in the Matrix.

The world is being forcibly reconfigured by at least three concurrent revolutions: a geopolitical revolution driven by the rise of China; an ideological revolution consuming the Western world; and a technological revolution exacerbating both of the former.

~ N.S. Lyons, from The Upheaval

I’m reminded of a blog post about Gregory Bateson’s point, that systems without moderating feedback loops are disastrous. That technological revolution exacerbating both of the former is a runaway system specifically designed to not have friction (or anything else that would moderate its growth.)

Until next time, thanks for reading.

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