Floating in the River

The pace of life is unrelenting. The speed at which it compels us to follow displaces any chance of us becoming free roaming individuals. Our state of mind is governed by the rules it sets, the requirements it demands, and we have as much choice to follow its rhythm as a fish does against the downstream of a strong river. Our psychology awakens to a situation where our way of being is like a good soldier; a loyal subject that never does anything that wasn’t preordained in the first place. For the way we think at the very core is a reflection of the environment which spawned us. However negative this may sound at first glance and the positive wishful thinking it seems to dismiss right from the start, it is a good place to begin our walk.

We are creatures addicted to dead answers. The river never stops in its aggressive motion and momentum, so we rarely pause to investigate ourselves to discover the patterns that are always before us. The act of pausing is analogues to floating in the river. It is the state in which questioning becomes possible at a deeper level. A state of questioning where answers are not the immediate aim, but in which the state is the answer itself. The pace of life demands that we seek answers and crave constantly for acquiring what is there for the sake of filling ourselves to the brim with the comfort of assuming we are secure. We are filled with assumptions that pleasure us to indulge in and favour anything which allows us to be more certain about the stability and prosperity of our position amongst the ranks and hierarchy of this bizarre social order.

A state of questioning — that is the answer. If this be the aim then a man must ascertain the factors which make it impossible. The gatekeeper has to simply increase the volume of the pressure-nob and stress is sent our way. Hormones and a formula of chemicals shoot through our blood until we submit to the state in which we are accustomed. The gatekeeper knows we are more prone to weakness and fickle than we are to the struggle and intent to prevail. Our desire to float in the river will fade away far too soon to produce any results worth remembering, and so the effort in itself remains a trinket in our memory. This is the state in which we find ourselves unless we walk into the room with it all in mind. That is, if a man anticipates the gatekeepers presence, the pressure-nob, and his weaknesses, than the effort may prevail beyond the borders of mediocrity.

What is a state of questioning? It is an effort to keep still the thoughts and circumspect each one as they arise. If the discipline is there and the effort persists, a certain discernment will begin to form, where one’s awareness of this room called the mind becomes sharp and shrewd. The room is empty in one moment and then a guest enters. He distracts you with a few tricks, like juggling balls of daydreams. A moment later another guest appears, stranger than the last, presenting you with a powerpoint presentation of how that certain someone annoyed you with their words or behaviour. Both of these fellows are suddenly muffled by an outraged woman, raving with hysteria about a pleasurable activity that could be yours at any moment. The room appears to have an unlocked door, with any stranger welcome to enter and sell their tale for minutes of fame at a time.

Why must it be endured, this silly state in which our minds are open to any and all things? We want to take credit for them all and assume they are equal elements of what we consider, as a whole, to be us. If that is the case, plead your case and prove it so. But observation of this room will reveal otherwise; that the room is in disorder and disarray, always plucking whatever is there, simply because it is there. The throne of the kingdom is whored out to any passerby and the state of everything suffers as a result. What must be sacrificed, moment to moment, is the need to acquire answers, and to replace it with a paused moment where answers aren’t irrelevant. They only appear to be significant in the moment of their influence, where they fill the space and juggle their tricks for your glee. Wash your hands in each moment, hold the reigns, and lock that bereft door.

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