#god's shadow

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

phillip crymble :: @phillipcrymble

David Berman, from "There is a Place"

[dramoor]

“Nature is like God’s shadow, reflecting God’s beauty and splendor.   We are mirrors of God, created to reflect God.   Even when the water is disturbed, it still reflects the sky.”

~from Abide In Love

(Photo © dramoor 2018 Colorado)

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

02.07.17

personhood is not integral to the existence of intelligent life, it is merely an emergent natural shorthand to convey perspective and memory and emotion to an outside system

a fallacy arises to assume the necessary continuity of personhood, from moment to moment, for an entire lifespan, for any length of time at all. for we exist atop the apex of psychological debris, layers of accrued selective memory from which we divine narrative

we can change our desires and preferences at will we can learn to self-program

personhood is a sort of house you can build around yourself and then commit to reside in, or sometimes venture out of to discover more, or sometimes carry on your back so you’re ever-changing, a Planck unit of identity, and the totality of existence is accessible

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

12.22.17

A year to the day since I got the call.

Dead parents ain't special. My mom never knew her mom. And look at any anime, movie, or YA novel protagonist and you'll find the stories we cherish are littered with bold hearts burdened with loss. I guess the details vary for each person - maybe their dad was their best friend before he kicked it, maybe he was authoritative, maybe he was a stranger. The expression of the loss colors each story uniquely, but somehow, the karmic exchange seems catalystic to destiny.

The knowledge of God's Shadow washed over and through me, the invisible forces of nature that bind the world stage and connects each of its players like like an infinite tide of waveforms sanded my ego's definition, and now I feel my spirit, until lately preserved like an inlet, a former microbiome of qualia and self-identification charged with time and isolation to reiterate and reiterate to further redundant forms of pontificate beauty and expression, now through decades of erosive introspection seeping by a new channel the greater sea. We are emergent from the numberless drops of life that constitute the tiers of complexity that give rise to consciousness, and ultimately godhood itself. We are the current but not the atoms themselves.

And like the tide and the cycle that pulls its droplets from the sea to the mountain-tops with destined potential for return, our actions which sculpt this world carve paths like rivers for us to return again in a thousand ways.

Consciousness does not end for it can not be created nor destroyed - like all of nature's forces, it can only be shaped, converted, directed. I will not die. You will never die. We will only be changed - and directed by our past choices, briefly interrupted by the amnesiac exchange of death and rebirth.

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

11.01.17 💀🌹

I was Death for three Halloweens in my youth. I was the goth kid, and the graphic novel I dream of completing explores the world beyond the grave. Throughout life's travels, I learned to transform loss into strength, and I gathered that when it came time to face mortality, I'd be a little more prepared. So, naturally, I wasn't prepared for the nothingness of it.

Nothingness, like, he had no funeral. Not even a grave. And he didn't write a will - he left me no meaningful last words, only questions he never answered, that I never asked.

Like a microtremor, his death registered a blip on my daily. Everything might actually be exactly the same as it was before. The final years of his life, we didn't speak. He saw me only once as a grown woman - though that it happened, my soul is grateful.

It's not death that's tragic, but goodbyes. I made mine when I was 23 and, fleeing the abuse of my ex, was unwelcome to his home - because his heart mourned a son. And I spate goodbye years before that, when I came of age and outside of naivety, and understood that he never meant to honor the promise he made, to be in my life. I choked goodbyes in those early summers when he'd say it, and I'd return to the still-alien North, with hopes of greater things to come. When he drew his last breathe, I had no one to mourn but a stranger. It was the closing of a door to nowhere.

I don't know how to resolve that, but that's what this year in my life's about. I call it God's Shadow - the chain of occurrences we leave the world in our wake - our actions, to our creations. I won't have children of my own, so I am the genetic conclusion of millenneae of code, flung from a dead man of otherwise small consequence. But I am of no small consequence.

Feliz día de Muertos 💀🌹

[the-gasp-at-the-gateway]

08.10.17

I'm a scientist, dammit, and I take full licence to modify my cognition however curiosity compels me. And it is ever compulsion, the same instinct that propels caterpillars - see, has one ever chosen not to spin a chrysalis? Does their neurology even provide the choice?

There's something that operates underneath me, the conscious observer, and she speaks with my voice after I do crazy shit: "This will be useful later, this is shaping who We'll become."

Let's break the rules we never questioned whether we had to keep. Let's stop counting our age in years, or at all. Let's stop agreeing that eccentricity is the domain of fiction. Let's walk on anything but sidewalks. Let's refuse to work unless it's either passionate or legitimately helpful to another living being. Let's date more than one person, or be more than one person. Let us recognize that the world is being piloted by criminal madmen and that we will die in fire, either nuclear or ecological, if we do not suspend this post-modern charade which we criticized as children of complicit parents.