Sorry for the disappearance. My computer decided that it was time to give up the ghost. While this is inconvenient most any time, the day it decided to do this was the day I was giving a presentation on podcasting. Thankfully, I was smart enough to have uploaded my PowerPoint presentation but notes, examples, and other things were simply gone and gone for good.
I need a computer to work and a prolonged downtime is very, very bad for me. However, in the near two weeks(!) that I’ve been offline, I’ve managed to scrape, borrow, and otherwise secure monies to procure another computer and… VOICI!
Y’know what’s consistent? Consistency, and without a computer, there was no way I could have any sort of consistency. My handwriting is abysmal — and I’d have to take my blog “on the road” by knocking on my readers’ doors — and I’m so used to typing on a keyboard that all of my writing and creative whatnots stopped dead. NO LONGER, DEAR READER, as I have returned from the outer regions with my brand new laptop.
On this computer, I’m forgoing Microsoft Office apps and starting anew with Google Docs. Yes, I know, Google is evil even though their motto once was “Don’t Be Evil”, but its ubiquity won me over. If I can remote login to a computer and have all of my stuff ready for use, I don’t mind whatever minor bit of data mining they get from me. I’m not really that important to be spied upon. Neither are you, really. We’re not that interesting enough, but it does give me a slight thrill to drop “did you hear that, NSA” in the middle of phone conversations.
Quantum theory contradicts itself, in terms of binary choices. The waveform on this particular issue has collapsed to a fine point. Maybe duality isn’t the thing we’re looking for.
Let me backtrack…
I spend a lot of time trying to grapple with fourth dimensional thinking. My science background isn’t quite stellar and my maths is rudimentary at best, but they are hurdles to be overcome. For now, I’m trying to visualize myself as a fourth dimensional being, a time worm, a line segment that goes from A to Z in a curvy, wavy, chunky little line. It starts from my conception and ends whereever my physical body ends up being. The me that is typing when I’m typing this is a point on that space/timeline alone this hopefully long journey.
And that’s just the physical aspect of it. My mind exists in a more fluid state, exponentially larger than the worm-me that skitters along 4D space. Because the mind is a highly complex machine. According to the book Rebel Buddha, we have a day-to-day (or moment-to-moment) mind made up of three minds: perceptual, conceptual, and emotional. The perceptual mind takes in the information, (ex., a leaf during the fall), while our conceptual mind tells us that it is a “leaf”, and our emotional mind gives us our response. However, a leaf becomes an abstraction in that as soon as we perceive that we see a leaf, our mind is already labelling it as a leaf. This then subverts our concept of leaf unless we allow ourselves to have a direct experience, such as picking up the leaf and observing it closely, admiring the colors, twirling it in our hands, and so on.
The mind is quite an interesting organ. Imagine just looking at what’s right in front of you. For example, if you’re in a familiar setting — for me it is the living room where I am typing on this laptop — your mind has already filled in the blanks and labelled everything you see within your field of view. Therefore, everything you see is an abstract concept. If your mind has filled in the blanks and defined everything you see. So one could say that we let something else do the observing for us, so we sleepwalk through a lot of what we perceive on a day to day basis.
But it’s only when I perceive with knowing, with having a direct experience, that I can start to consider this table that my computer rests on. This table was built by a student in a class, which gives me a lot of threads to consider such as:
- How he built the table.
- Where the wood came from.
- What store did he purchase the supplies to make the table (the screws, the varnish, etc.)
- Where he built it.
- Who built the place where he built this table.
- What he had for breakfast each day.
- Where the food that he had for breakfast came from.
- And so on and so on and so on…
Obviously, sourcing everything within our field of vision is a great path to madness — if not obsessive behaviors — but it does serve as a reminder to “stop and smell the roses”. In other words, to perceive, conceive, and feel the moments that we’re having.
I remember reading an article on the director David Lynch and how he would stop to observe an anthill and be completely engrossed and fascinated by what he saw. In a lot of ways, this is the path I’m looking into.
What all of this has to do with quantum theory is never mind.