4.9.09

Bits of Plastic on the Ocean


Problems were my thing.

Loose thread? I pulled it. That chip in the paint? All I saw.

Personal complaints? My pleasure!

Hailing from a family versed in the geography of suffering by virtue of an early sibling death, I eventually trained as a professional listener. Coupled with a natural curiosity, my compassion was easily evoked and solutions were applied like a healing poultice to the boo boo's of life.

With all those problems front and center, I took great pride in accumulating a virtual landfill of solutions. Easy, quick, magical, occasionally helpful?

Snap, snap, snappy judgements and answers.

I saw problems everywhere. Heard and talked about them all day.

My mind easily tuned into what isn't.

What isn't fixed. Isn't right. Isn't fair. Isn't true. Isn't good. Isn't best. Isn't better.

Isn't now. Isn't then. Isn't comfortable. Isn't easy. Isn't here. Isn't there.

Isn't mine. Isn't yours. Isn't ours, his, hers or theirs.

My mind tells me there are plenty of other minds set on isn't. And of course, if there are minds full of problems, there'll be industries created to solve them.

Anything with the word improvement in the title will do nicely.

Physical, emotional, social. Home, auto, laundry, pets, children, furniture, communications, food, clothing, entertainment, health, money, life, personality, relationships, marriage.

If "isn't" were a country inhabited by "isn't-zens", it would be bigger than Facebook and Twitter combined.

For a long time my mind couldn't think of anything that isn't.

But what if what isn't, isn't all there is?

I became more than a little concerned.

Where the hell is what is?

I turned over what isn't in my mind and what is appeared.

Relieved by finding what is, another thought crept up from no where in particular.

Maybe what isn't and what is are connected.

Could both be true?

My mind rebels at the thought.

It isn't happy.

It doesn't want to think about this.

Grinding noise, slowing gears, smoke curling, acrid smell of burning oil.

Can't hold it.

Isn't easy.

Rumbling - using that deep voice when bullying me that I don't know what I'm thinking - my mind drags out any authority figure stand-in, 'doctor-father-god-male' rational, logical, frowning, groaning, pronouncing - must have one answer.

(From experience, this speech often proceeds pay dirt in the excavation of consciousness!)

Gently returning to the idea that both are true.

See dialectical thinking - http://bit.ly/oAoDy

One of the cornerstones of freedom from a prison of the mind's own making.

Both are true.

This phrase unhinges my mind and it flops open.

Solutions float off.

Gently drifting bits of plastic on the ocean.


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