The Paradigm of Unknowing.

in #musing6 years ago

Moon River? River Moon?

When you look at the reflection of the moon on a river you watch a play of light-flecks rippling into patterns that never stay. You canot follow the one bokeh-spot of light on its journey down stream. It is not a traceable stream of information or a string of past events. It is a momentary flicker, a mini event in isolation of all the other ripple-events connected only by what was the light-body of the moon. It has no function, clearly (neither to light the way, nor show up the water).

Is this pure joy at play?

There is, as such, no meaning to the flickering play upon the dark water. "It is full moon tonight", is all that can be said; or, "how pretty: this dancing of the moonlight", but this significance is relative; hence personal and very temporary. To a cat-burgular, as he crosses the bridge to the dwelling of his next victim, and casts a glance over the river, it would be an unwelcome sight.

Perhaps, only the temporary is eternal...?

May we thus remind ourselves not everything is a stream of data. Many will beg to differ... I know....

Yet, truth pervades all, with its Isness. All that can be perceived consciously is thus invested with goodness by the very consciousness lent (our sympathy as the seer meets with the seen), and out of this is created a consciousness quality, and an aspect of God (the ontological goodness of being).

Thus, we have our God while we weren't even looking. Now you see Him and now you don't!
Clearly, to know him takes knowing how the stream of all He IS cannot be known.

Additional Reading:


Event To Watch Out For: "An unusual set of circumstances will combine in the early hours of Monday morning in the skies above the northern hemisphere, resulting in a phenomenon called a super blood wolf moon."
RARE super blood wolf moon

Credit top of page: Spectacular night sky photo by Ian M Jones on Unsplash
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'La luna vino a la fragua
Con su polizón de nardos.
El niño la mira, mira
El niño la está mirando'

Federico García Lorca

Psicodelia.jpg

Me, a million years ago (about 4, actually. Today my hair is pink)

.
Anointing you and Lorca in spikenard as you both do me!

Hope to witness this super blood, wolf moon, but fear all may be blocked by Oregon's thick blanket-layer of marine clouds.
Move along protective weather so that I might see! Or, be careful what I wish for?

You be careful, Ms Eagle Eyes!

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