Believe it or not there is no such thing as solidity
The concept of matter has almost no validity
When the quantum investigator looks at atoms she finds mostly empty space sparsely dotted by electrons and protons, which, if you zoom into those are also mostly empty space.
Mere sparks, made of quarks.
The studiers of such things are starting to think solid matter is really a matter of perception
Based on how we perceive
We experience a world we each conceive
Based on what the mass of grey matter between our ears decides to believe
But what if it has been deceived?
About anything? Or everything?
Then how would I know if I know what I know or if I know nothing because maybe there is nothing to know, or maybe there is nothing, like if nothing is solid then there really is no thing out there. No things at all anywhere.
Or are we all just one thing, in which case the idea of being solid or not would suddenly become irrelevant
And if we are all one thing then it seems logical that nothing could be considered irreverent
Because it’s all being done by agreement
In this matterless life that’s made of space but feels hard as cement
A strange paradoxical existence I admire and simultaneously lament
I don’t know how to be alive
Because nobody’s taught me
Everybody’s forgotten
Or nobody ever knew how.
Or perhaps there is now “how” to it after all. There is just being. Just what is in this very moment is also the mastery of that very same moment. It can never be improved upon because it will never return again.
But if another like it comes I can be more ready, more alert, more prepared to handle it with grace, all this circumstance that’s made up of mostly space. I’ll look it in the face
But like a psychedelic fractal void of intimidating color it doesn’t blink as this geometrical gaze stares unflinchingly back at me, penetrating me. I want to say it is becoming me, but just at the moment I realize how absurd that sounds I also realize something else. Of course it not becoming me, that is absurd for it has always been me, and there is nothing but me in existence in all the world. Not “me” as is Brian, but me as the consciousness that connects Brian with everything else. “me” as in the empty space that science has figured out how it works or what to call it, so it is ineptly called simply “the field”. I am the field, and I feel it fully.
There is nothing to learn, there is nothing to be, there is nothing to achieve because there really is no thing at all. And so I just start laughing.
