I write a lot. Most of it will probably never be read though. I am somewhat conflicted in the prospect of sharing my thoughts. I think it is so because I, knowing well that I've many flaws, have little desire to look back on what I've shared with others and be obliged to amend my statements. The written word tends to sway people, and being influential even in the slightest degree causes a refining element to seethe the brain. This causes me to post only what I am more or less confident holds few notions that can easily fly away on the wind as many of my thoughts do. I simply do not know how one can make a living on the air.
That said, I undertook this travel log to force myself to write fast and for an audience. I undertook it with an underlying knowledge that in the long run it would benefit me even if in the future I would need to reevaluate what I've said. I also did it to force myself to learn how to swim. One can never lift the bugle of truth to ones lips until the fear of drowning in the oceans of criticism has been confronted wholly willingly. Upon those thoughts I begin the second and final leg of my trip.
I'm here waiting for my flight to Phoenix (which, from SLC must be the strangest layover for Anchorage, but whatever) and I am struggling with a real problem. Three of them actually. Two of them are of the kind that knead ones heart. And the third is of a more existential nature and also the only one I will elaborate on here.
I do not assert anything that follows to be certain. This is simply me thinking out loud as I write for my travel log.
I find myself continually at war it seems. Battling thoughts fly in and out of my mind. What is the nature of a soul? What is the purpose in life? Is there free will? I have to confront the ideas from all different sides and argue my points from split perspectives as if it were all hypothetically assumed both true and otherwise because of the nature of the world we live in. I acknowledge that most of what I tend to easily believe may not be what is actually true so I pursue carefully as many avenues as I can while tailoring in my experiences to form a synthesis from where I can draw some sort of confidence in my conclusions.
What really might be beyond that of the physical construct our brains purport to be tangible reality is a difficult thing to contemplate. It is compounded and paradoxically somewhat enlightened as I have thought in depth upon the spectrum of light responsible for stimulating our visual sense.
From there I transition into what's been weighing on my mind, from the existential that is. I do not apologize for continually reflecting upon this Stirling woman. And I make no claims of actual scientific value here. This is merely my thoughts of which I want to share solely because it's what I've been thinking about while waiting here for my flight.
I want to state clearly as well that this is not a juvenile interest in the paranormal, this is drawn from deep contemplative interest with serious scientific implications should spirits actually exist. This is not for cheap thrills at the expense of poor souls. I hold this interest as nearly sacred with a kind, understanding attitude toward the deceased, and with an inquisitive mind. I also know that some people criticize my interest. I am not going to attempt to defend it right now. Those people just need to get over it because my interest isn't, for one, wrong, and for two, isn't going away soon. One may as well condemn Socrates, Galileo and Newton for their unceasing and apparently impertinent passions. They did. I merely want to understand and I have the foolhardy notion that these things are capable of being understood.
When a person sees another person in front of them most likely that other person is a corporeal being like you and I. Other people can see this person since this person is flesh and blood as we know it and visible light reflects off of them, and objectively allows any eyes to sense their being there.
But on the other hand it could be a hallucination of where only the individual hallucinating sees the being. This can be induced or produced by ingesting certain substances, or from lack of sleep, or from being on the verge of death, or the outcome of mental illness, or it can even be due to the stresses of grief, or even from meditating. There is no visible light in the objective world bouncing off of these hallucinations. No one else can see them. They remain solely in the mind of the beholder. Whether those things are real is a question whose answer blurs the line between subjective and objective reality on an ultimate scale.
If we are to consider this we then approach anti-science as reality truly is what we behold in the mind and subjectivity is what is objective. I have imagined there to be a gradient of conscious perceptions that for the masses have normalized or unified into a common experience of which we probe with science. If we are to consider an infinite and conscious universe this does in no way sound absurd. This could be the case, but if so it would be very difficult to comprehend but not impossible.
But now we are faced with a commonly reported phenomena which blur the line even more--ghosts and or visions of heavenly origin. There being no agreed upon answer as to the reality of these spirits I reflect upon them with great depth.
I don't have time here to travel too far down this rabbit hole, but there are just a few things I'd like to say.
Spirits, ghosts, angels or demons all appear to be subjective realities appearing to the beholder as manifesting themselves in the exterior world with attributed objective qualities. They appear to be both subjective and objective. And it is here I would draw, if only for fodder for the the imagination the loose parallel between them and light, as light curiously exhibits both wave and particle functions. The rabbit hole gets deeper as we play around with the ideas that for one, all matter is speculated to be made of light, and for two, it is solidly confirmed that we are made of the atoms of dead stars, and for three, the physical reality that light as we immediately imagine it to be is not even real. That is, there is no such thing as light exterior to our minds. The color that we see as given to us by light is totally subjective, that is again, it only exists in our minds and does not exist outside of a conscious observer.
The implication of the reality of spirits I think is more profound than even the most staunch believer realizes. I am not prepared to follow this rabbit hole any further, in writing at least, but I'll say this: metaphor is never more literal until we start to imagine that our dreams might actually be manifested as objective realities somehow or somewhere.
I am prepared to say if only for myself at this time that we live in large part only aware of an immediately apparent construct of which its limits are probed by scientific inquiry, but I am constrained to acknowledge that it is but one construct within another, and gleaning even just a couple of these I am not prepared to accept that these constructs do not go on indefinitely.
It is time to board my plane. Until next time.