We weren't there when it happened, but we all know the universe started with a big bang, and one fine day our world was formed out of nothing, from nothing - coalescing into the most astute form of existence we can ever know.
Similarly every existence is probably a mini-big bang in its own right. Suddenly Somebody is created out of Something - and volia, a new life is on its way
Would it be fair to say, this is where existence and its locus of control begins to shift, and move horribly out of control?
Perhaps life is created to focus on some form of destiny - born of fee will or determinism, I can't tell which. And it might pretty much have been a part of our Job Description to focus on achieving Karmic resolution to the questions of our respective lives.
But between then and now, every particle and inch of ourselves begin to scatter. Grinding to pieces until they are fine grains of sand that slip through your fingers the moment you try to hold on to it. So maybe the best thing to do is hold on to the sand-grains in the hollow of your palm, and hope as hell nothing happens to make you let it fall.
I suppose this construer is of the opinion that existence scatters us too much. That life from a still form begins to flow like fresh water - pretty to behold, happy to be, but so momentary. One moment we're here, the next we're gone, and by the time its Time to go, you wouldn't even know where to look, and where to begin.
So here begins a theory that the construer would love to postulate. In time, until the locus begins to shift back where it belongs. Till then, we are happy to continue measuring our lives with coffee spoons.
Similarly every existence is probably a mini-big bang in its own right. Suddenly Somebody is created out of Something - and volia, a new life is on its way
Would it be fair to say, this is where existence and its locus of control begins to shift, and move horribly out of control?
Perhaps life is created to focus on some form of destiny - born of fee will or determinism, I can't tell which. And it might pretty much have been a part of our Job Description to focus on achieving Karmic resolution to the questions of our respective lives.
But between then and now, every particle and inch of ourselves begin to scatter. Grinding to pieces until they are fine grains of sand that slip through your fingers the moment you try to hold on to it. So maybe the best thing to do is hold on to the sand-grains in the hollow of your palm, and hope as hell nothing happens to make you let it fall.
I suppose this construer is of the opinion that existence scatters us too much. That life from a still form begins to flow like fresh water - pretty to behold, happy to be, but so momentary. One moment we're here, the next we're gone, and by the time its Time to go, you wouldn't even know where to look, and where to begin.
So here begins a theory that the construer would love to postulate. In time, until the locus begins to shift back where it belongs. Till then, we are happy to continue measuring our lives with coffee spoons.
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