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Saturday, January 6, 2018

Progress, Time and Place

Memory, what is it?

We have located the physical structure of memories in the proteins that form the engrams, that make-up the spindle fibers in the brain.

The tiniest sequences of amino acids form the web of neurons that house our consciousness.

But what is memory?

Are our memories only of the past, or are they also of the future…becoming now?

All that we are, everything we will ever be, all of it is right-before us, just beyond the reach of our finger tips, our potential-becoming-actual and concretizing in the past, like the rolling crest of a wave, churning in continuous motion.

Can you see it?

When the end that you have seen, the future you have anticipated, is realized in the present, what has occurred?

What has transpired when that moment slips into the past?

We are, each of us, fragments of a greater whole; we are splinters, specks of dust, we are the tiniest of seeds.

We are the infinite in germ, containing the whole in the part, like the DNA locked in our cells, the whole of who we are tangled in its double helix, awaiting the divine spark for it to unfold.

We are emotional beings, our memories of our experiences include the reality of how we felt, both in the moment of their instantiation, and later in the moments that we reflect on them.

There is the empirical reality of what is, or was, and there is the empirical reality of how we experienced it, felt it, internalized it, a process is always ongoing.

The past gets rewritten through the stories we tell, narration filters and therefore altars reality, not by changing he past, but by changing how the past is carried forward in the present and thereby projected into the future, conditioning us toward the end that we are seeking, the final cause that is the cause of all causes.

We are intellectual beings, thinking and perceiving, our memories of our experiences include the reality of how we narrate them, both in the moment of their instantiation, and later, in how we reflect on them.

The things we say about the events we participate in matter, both what we say aloud, and what we say to ourselves through the silent voice inside our head.

What we think and feel matters, our thoughts and feelings are real events, each and every one them. They happen, not in a private world unique to our individual experience, the occur in our experience, an experiential reality we share with the rest of creation, whether we chose to reveal those private moments or not.

Each in their own way has the potential to open our memories to us, our understanding of who we are, of what is, or bar us from the same.

The way is not a straight path, it is a winding road that navigates between the two, between the emotion and the intellect, pulling them together to form our understanding of the now, of what was, of who we are, and what will be.

The mystery of life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to experience, a wise man said.[1]

We must pass over the threshold of our own experience, move through the transom clear headed and ready to record what we encounter, both within and without, making ourselves into a the blank slate, our spirit into the tabula rasa, a perfect mirror capturing the light of our experience.

The journey we take through our memories, those trips are not a reliving of the past, they are creative moments in the here and now, co-creative events taking place in the present, while re-creating the past.

To speculate about the future is like chasing after ghosts, such visions are as elusive as the memories we have about events that have already transpired.

What is real is what is happening now, but do not fool yourself, because it is almost certain that you do not know exactly what is taking place around you.

Every moment we experience is directed by two things; a set of historical antecedents that push events forward, and a set of motivations concerning the future, which direct them toward a desired end.

Every event we experience has a multiplicity of such things; antecedents and motivations, that are too many to count, encompass, or comprehend.

We never really know anything.

Our potentials are always changing, both our powers and our liabilities shift at any given moment.

Rise with your potential, float on the tide, welcome the weather that follows.

We labor in the now, and every moment is a new referent guiding us toward our dreams.

Nothing is static.

Everything is mutable, in flux, even the past. Such is the nature of time, and our memory of it.

This makes us co-creators in the universe, partners with the divine in the eternal moment.

We are, each of us, the center of the universe, the fulcrum of all progress, in our time and place, on the razor’s edge, spinning with the world, turning on the lathe of heaven.



[1] Frank Herbert, Dune