Quicksilver Times: November 2012

Reality and the Nature of Sesame Noodles

November 1, 2012

I’m off the flesh wagon. Again.

Decades of adhering to the premise that respecting what you kill and consume, stepping each day closer to consciousness – as your moment, strength, and attention allows, and attending to love while recognizing if not always accepting the darkness, have brought me another epiphany. Of sorts. Stimulated by the solitary darkness and intermittent flashes of light on Interstate Highway 95, after four or five hours of sharing middle-of-the-night rhythm with truckers and a few other four wheel night riders, the near meditative silence and mind clearing passage of time has awakened me. Again.

It came unbidden to mind. “Not the time to be eating flesh.” That simple, really. So after twenty-five years of no flesh, followed by about twenty-five years of fleshing, I’m off the stuff again. For how long? Don’t know. It’s not the issue. No flesh today.

On that black night, all alone on the road, that “Poor Man’s Epiphany” has re-centered me.

Seems a pivotal time has come. Again.

All the new work – Quicksilver Times and all that entails, Live broadcasts identifying issues and directions understood now - after forty years of study and struggle, Finally getting the 78 half hour Sharing the Seasons TV series programs digitized and up on the Sena Foundation You Tube channel, Reprising the Sharing the Seasons series itself, Preparing for a spring kickoff of Quicksilver Times Talking Tour – all seem suspended. Just…waiting.

The primary focus of the moment is White Man Dancing – Grief, God, and a Unified Theory. The book is finished. Thanks to Becca Fitzgerald the editing is completed. The letter to Agents/Publishers is strong and ready to be sent. A list of Agents and Publishers has been compiled. www.sena.org has been updated so the first book, Remembered Gifts and New Directions, and the TV series are highlighted. www.quicksilvertimes , the Facebook page, and this blog are in place and active.

All that’s left is to send the book out there.

The last couple of years have been consistent in, if not rejecting ideas, programs, and projects we’ve begun, they’ve certainly displayed a yawning disinterest. I can, rightly, explain away that lack of acceptance by taking responsibility for not presenting our work appropriately, and for not being able to fully understand and use the media and technology available to us.

I also know that the primary motivation for the work must not be in the apparent success or failure of our sharing. We do the work because it’s the right thing to do. We present because it is the truth. My mind uses what has now become cliché, “Stand for what you believe – even if you’re the only one standing.”

It’s become my standard in the last decade.

So now, with White Man Dancing – Grief, God, and a Unified Theory finished and safely tucked in its’ digital nook on several computer hard drives, it too seems in suspension.

The moment brings to mind a moment in a kid’s sorta book I just finished a few days ago. (Lol, it I suspect, will receive the same reception as everything else sent outward the last few years.)

Pancake Pendleton is a boy who has been smooshed flat by a billboard for Papa Peter’s Pancake Emporium. He’s been caught up – literally – in a Derechos (You know, one of the huge new storms our Global Warming may be spawning) and has flown all the way from Sheboygan Wisconsin to Bowling Green, Virginia. And yes, he is a distant cousin of Flat Stanley.

"...Pancake Pendleton broke free of the wind. For a moment or two he felt suspended there, motionless, between the earth and the sky. Held by some magical force that would keep him balanced there, at peace, forever. But forever is a realllly long time.

We don’t know how long that beautiful forever moment lasted for Pancake Pendleton. But it for sure wasn’t forever...."

It feels like that right now here in the real world, or what passes for the real world. I accept the moment can’t be forever. I’m seventy-three; I’ve at least learned that.

But there’s a part of me that wants to hold on here, not face the probability, no, the almost certainty that White Man dancing, Grief, God, and a Unified Theory will languish in some digital cranny of the ethers.

I’m prepared for that, I just don’t have to be overjoyed about it.

I can look ahead and understand that “This is the way the work ends, this is the way the work ends, this is the way the work ends, not with a bang, not even with a whimper, but with a series of quiet ‘Phhhllaaats’” – to shamelessly maul T.S. Elliot.

What begins to hover about the edges of my understanding is that this might be a greater season of change than I have been anticipating. Yet in the quiet, inevitable entropy of each heartbeat, each rising sun, I find the middle way, which for many decades was a tightrope made of Teflon coated piano wire, is now a path. The cautionary note about that, of course, is that at the moment I’m without pain – physical, mental, or spiritual. The darkness is real but momentarily a memory.

In the balance of what Pancake Pendleton would call a forever moment that he knows will end soon, I see the nature of reality adjusted.

But as White Man Dancing says, UNDERSTAND, the words lie.

Yet here they are.

Look to the new Physics. There in the physical nature of being and not being, in the measurable nature of movement and stillness, there is a portal to transcendence. Consciousness, intelligence is not measured by memory, memorization, or marking, but by opening and acceptance.

It’s in the opening, in the acceptance and the environment the middle way accesses that transcendence is experienced.

Find your way. There are as many as there are moments.

See?

Pancake Pendleton was right. The moment ended.

Now it’s to the exercise. The book must be sent out. The broadcasts must be planned. The videos must be digitized. The Quicksilver Times Talking Tour must be planned. And it is time to again to STAND UP!

Come on and help. Share.

Sesame Noodles? It’s what I’m making the family for dinner tonight.

love,

bill

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Poem

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Reality and the nature of Sesame Noodles