There is no Space.
Amir and I were on the beach at Namso lake as the sun was setting. We prepared for the cold. The water at the lake is vibrant blue like the Mediterrarean and you can see the mountains in the distance. Everything is distance.
[I just had deja-vu while writing this. Lately my deja-vus have begun to stack so I don't actually know if it's the same I've-been-in-this-moment-in-a-different-lifetime jazz like I had when i was a little bloke growing up or whether it's actually the memory of the memory of the memory of the occurance. I think once, in my teens, I had an idea that I would start counting the degrees of DV's that I was experiencing. I lost count and starting missing the authenticy. The stacked, memory deva-vu started occuring immediately after I had a really wild mental experience where I had deja-vu exponentially until in one instant my entire life became deja-vu. (It may be a bit much to go into on this post, but if you'd like to hear about it, we'll pour each other some tea by the fire one night and have a discussion.]
Anywho, Amir and I were sitting there, face to face, eating the green apples that we got out of the army-truck-turned-produce-truck that transported us to the lake. He said,
"I promised you a story. Would you like to hear it now?"
"Sure."
"It will be a long one," he said before getting comfortable, pausing, and beginning. He began with some background about the creator of the story. A Rabbi from 300 years ago wrote these stories with deep symbolism based on interpretations of the Torah. It is said that to understand the Torah to it's deepest level, one must enter a meditative state where you read what is between the lines as opposed to the actual characters. The story was amazing. It was about 2 boys that were switched at birth. One was a son of a king and the other was the son of a maid. When the fake king went into power he forced the other into exile where he got into sin and booze and such before having a wild dream that convinced him to go down this certain street at a certain time where he would take the first job he was offered. He accepted and basically became this guy's slave herding animals long distances between cities. One day he was herding these two beasts through the woods when they went wild and began to run. He chased them and chased them until he became lost and had to spend the night in a tree, being scared by the wild, supernatual sounds surrounding him. He awoke to see the two beasts below him and he climbed down and began to chase them yet again all day. That night, when he was acending the tree to sleep in, there was another man staring at him in bewilderment since this land had no towns or civilization for hundreds of miles. As it turned out, the man had lost his horse. They became friends and went to sleep in the tree only to be woken up by the wild sounds going on all around them. The next morning the two beasts and the lost horse were eating grass and looking up at the men in the tree. They climbed down and chased them through the woods before the authentic king was comfronted by a man that actually had more of the appearance of a specter than a human. The story goes on quite further describing the process of the human spirit and how the man got his power back.
As he was telling the story night decended, bringing with it the stars of infinite space and the Perseid Shower raining belts through our atmospere, his silouette only showing his bright white eyes and teeth as the meteors would streak over us - the story pausing only briefly for a "Holy crap" or "Wow". The atmosphere at our altitude is almost non-existant. During the daytime it's wise to wear sunscreen, because, even though it's not particularly hot, there's nothing to stop the UV rays. The stars were absolutely endless. I realized later, after the story and lecture on it's spiritual conotations were completed, laying down with my coat and scarf and woolen caps, that all the stars that I could see, and the energy that was emitted, appeared to be more than actual space. I'm saying that the blackness of space actually looked like little specks and the vibrance of the stars encompassed most of the nightscape. This somehow related to the discussion about the Torah and reading between the lines. Even on the long walk back through the desert to our camp, the ground took on the same appearance. It consisted of lights and darks. The dark didn't neccesarily prove emptiness; just lack of understanding. When I made it back and snuggled into bed, still with the woolen cap on, warming my hands, I could see the brightness of neurological phosphenes taking on the exact same appearance of energy fields. I began to think about the circle again. Everything that is big is actually small and everything that is far is actually right here. You get bigger and bigger and see the planets and stars and gallaxies and universe and realize that it's really only the dime you hold in your hand. Whatev's. I'm going to sleep. It's late and rainy and I spent all day in and out of the banks here in Lhasa trying to clear up this hauntingly paranormal money situation. Tommorow I should have it right-o-right again and be able to join the formation of the thousand-armed, million-headed deities swarming the place. Oh yes, you should go to yahoo news and search for 'Tibet Dalai Lama' and read about some of the crazy crazy crap going on. Goodnight.
[I just had deja-vu while writing this. Lately my deja-vus have begun to stack so I don't actually know if it's the same I've-been-in-this-moment-in-a-different-lifetime jazz like I had when i was a little bloke growing up or whether it's actually the memory of the memory of the memory of the occurance. I think once, in my teens, I had an idea that I would start counting the degrees of DV's that I was experiencing. I lost count and starting missing the authenticy. The stacked, memory deva-vu started occuring immediately after I had a really wild mental experience where I had deja-vu exponentially until in one instant my entire life became deja-vu. (It may be a bit much to go into on this post, but if you'd like to hear about it, we'll pour each other some tea by the fire one night and have a discussion.]
Anywho, Amir and I were sitting there, face to face, eating the green apples that we got out of the army-truck-turned-produce-truck that transported us to the lake. He said,
"I promised you a story. Would you like to hear it now?"
"Sure."
"It will be a long one," he said before getting comfortable, pausing, and beginning. He began with some background about the creator of the story. A Rabbi from 300 years ago wrote these stories with deep symbolism based on interpretations of the Torah. It is said that to understand the Torah to it's deepest level, one must enter a meditative state where you read what is between the lines as opposed to the actual characters. The story was amazing. It was about 2 boys that were switched at birth. One was a son of a king and the other was the son of a maid. When the fake king went into power he forced the other into exile where he got into sin and booze and such before having a wild dream that convinced him to go down this certain street at a certain time where he would take the first job he was offered. He accepted and basically became this guy's slave herding animals long distances between cities. One day he was herding these two beasts through the woods when they went wild and began to run. He chased them and chased them until he became lost and had to spend the night in a tree, being scared by the wild, supernatual sounds surrounding him. He awoke to see the two beasts below him and he climbed down and began to chase them yet again all day. That night, when he was acending the tree to sleep in, there was another man staring at him in bewilderment since this land had no towns or civilization for hundreds of miles. As it turned out, the man had lost his horse. They became friends and went to sleep in the tree only to be woken up by the wild sounds going on all around them. The next morning the two beasts and the lost horse were eating grass and looking up at the men in the tree. They climbed down and chased them through the woods before the authentic king was comfronted by a man that actually had more of the appearance of a specter than a human. The story goes on quite further describing the process of the human spirit and how the man got his power back.
As he was telling the story night decended, bringing with it the stars of infinite space and the Perseid Shower raining belts through our atmospere, his silouette only showing his bright white eyes and teeth as the meteors would streak over us - the story pausing only briefly for a "Holy crap" or "Wow". The atmosphere at our altitude is almost non-existant. During the daytime it's wise to wear sunscreen, because, even though it's not particularly hot, there's nothing to stop the UV rays. The stars were absolutely endless. I realized later, after the story and lecture on it's spiritual conotations were completed, laying down with my coat and scarf and woolen caps, that all the stars that I could see, and the energy that was emitted, appeared to be more than actual space. I'm saying that the blackness of space actually looked like little specks and the vibrance of the stars encompassed most of the nightscape. This somehow related to the discussion about the Torah and reading between the lines. Even on the long walk back through the desert to our camp, the ground took on the same appearance. It consisted of lights and darks. The dark didn't neccesarily prove emptiness; just lack of understanding. When I made it back and snuggled into bed, still with the woolen cap on, warming my hands, I could see the brightness of neurological phosphenes taking on the exact same appearance of energy fields. I began to think about the circle again. Everything that is big is actually small and everything that is far is actually right here. You get bigger and bigger and see the planets and stars and gallaxies and universe and realize that it's really only the dime you hold in your hand. Whatev's. I'm going to sleep. It's late and rainy and I spent all day in and out of the banks here in Lhasa trying to clear up this hauntingly paranormal money situation. Tommorow I should have it right-o-right again and be able to join the formation of the thousand-armed, million-headed deities swarming the place. Oh yes, you should go to yahoo news and search for 'Tibet Dalai Lama' and read about some of the crazy crazy crap going on. Goodnight.