I am writing myself out of existence, forcing
myself into a corner, pressurising the ego, compressing it and no way out. No
way out of what? Out of itself and what is this self?
This self is a human made set of concepts that
shift and change with the ages. These are mental constructs and have no reality, although we believe them so, they shift
with cultures, politics, science, fashion and societies madness and extremes.
None of these are long lasting and real. It seems that the physical universe is
not lasting and real and it is always moving and evolving a creation in
continual process, and to some who wish to make it stationary and everlasting it
causes uncertainty and insecurity.
Humans prefer familiarity and to cling to a safe
place and to familiar forms yet old age, change, loss of one’s capabilities
prove the uncertainty of life at times. So is it better to die now----not
suicide and despair---not necessarily a physical death, however dive beneath
the uncertainty and fear of shifting platforms of seemingly solid foundations
and see behind as it were the flotsam and jetsam of the panorama of endless
change and evolution.
What then is old, death, birth, rotting flesh of a
deceased body, hankering after gold and security? These are but phantoms on the
endless journey to who knows where? The secret is learning to live in harmony
with change and uncertainty.
SHACK
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