Words
by worth and nothing death
to
ease the pain of fake breath,
the
turning tide which never ends
seeking
cliffs of life begins
What
is the worth of this one life? Essentially, it is pointless. To us,
in the moment, at the concurrent second of our experience, it seems
to be the only ‘which is’. To all other perspectives, it is of
ever decreasing value. So the view appends more distantly, so too
does the value.
We,
ourselves, naturally find our existence be of the highest level of
importance. The assumption is placed upon its inevitability. At
certain contingent times, when our spiritual limits are put to the
test, we may reckon than our individual existence may be extinguished
to support the gathered ‘whole’. In times of war and sacrifice
this is evident.
At
such times we bare witness to the ‘all’ which gathers within the
self. We know that, though our particular interest fails, those we
can never experience may gain even a moment of respite from the
suffering which travails them.
This
momentary experience is equivocal to total enlightenment. Total
enlightenment may be experienced by any being, so long as it contains
a mind of selfless detachment to its sense-experience. The center of
this experience, germinating outwards, is the Vector of Being. As the
Vector of Being grows, so too does the awareness of self.
The ‘Vector of Being’ is the
space in which an experiential creature is witness to its own
existence. It is the subjective reality through which you experience
everything in your life. This state of mind is undefinable from
outside it’s own existence. That is to say, we can only infer the
existence of minds without ourselves. The necessary quality of the
Vector of Being is that such an experience springs from a material
quality.
‘Vector
of Being’ has no central axis, except for that axis which is
initially experienced in every moment. As the Sense-experience
continues to upend itself endlessly, so too does the Vector of Being
adjust itself. It is a scale which resets tare with each
measurements it makes, against the previous weight, and in its use
measures all things.
The
scales of morality are the tools which the Vector of Being uses to
define its purpose, and its gradient. There is no definition for
these. Morality is never a solid bedrock, but through the ages
transforms at the whim of a thousand Vectors. Those Vectors witness
themselves and playfully dabble at a concept of an Initial Vector
which places before them a concrete example which resets all Tares.
This
is an illusion, as such an immutable Morality is again another
measure by which the Vector of Being resets itself.
Each
new life which experiences a Vector of Being, with its own rules and
ideas about how it conceives and creates its subjective reality. The
religious and the scientific. The liberal and the conservative. The
fascist and the anarchist. Each exist in a universe apart from the
other, which no reconcilable similarities.
Whence
does an immutable reality come? From a holy book? From outside? We’re
born into life with no knowledge. Can a planet with but a single
living creature hope to attain enlightenment without external
interference?
A
conscious an awake god would bury the rules for existence within the
very fabric of itself, so that the aspirant may look at any thing and
discover its true purpose. The rules for attainment may be seen
anywhere, with no special purpose, available to all. A free source
enlightenment.
Luckily,
we live in such a universe.
With
no other tool than our eyes we may witness the cycles of the
universe, and the rules by which is governs itself.
The
coyote eats dead flesh and shits.
Ten
thousand shits make a pile of rotten dirt.
Rotten
dirt is food for plants.
Plants
grow, scatter seeds, and are eaten by herbivores. Herbivores range,
scatter seeds, scatter shit, till the land.
Plants
grow in their shit and sustain other herbivores.
Herbivores
are eaten to nourish the coyotes.
So
too are their corpses, and the corpses of such therein.
On
and on and on. No mystery. The most simple of all can see this truth.
Never it is necessary to ask the proof of a truth so fundamental.
So
too are the rules of the cycles of existences, of life, of love, of
morality. They are plain to see, and any eye who wishes to look upon
them may find it without trouble.
