I've been pretty sick the past five days. In the past two weeks there have only been three days that we haven't had people staying with us. I have had very little free time to visit Hubski with the type of attention I feel it deserves. I've also had little to no "alone" time.
Yesterday, I was unloading my mom's car and as I was wheeling one of her suitcases to the door, I paused. There has been a lot of talk of "the now" on Hubski of late and this is likely what inspired me to stop in my tracks.
It was about 8:00pm. The air was cool, probably 55 degrees. It had been lightly raining and the driveway was a shiny black. I saw the leaves falling from the trees in the light from the street lamp. It was wonderful. I stood in that moment for maybe five seconds. I was in the now.
I broke from that presence and pulled out my phone and in my "notes" section I wrote this stream of consciousness:
Science, nature
Sunday afternoons
Car rides in a truck built for two
Wet leaves
Asphalt
Sleepy shallow pools
Wet up to the ankles
Family monsoon
So, your challenge should you choose to accept it is to turn off your internal dialog. Watch the thinker. Be present for as long as you can. Then, once you break that presence, write and share it here.
Okay, here's what I did. I don't know if this is... anything:
...
No words can...
Yeah. Stillborn thoughts and hard cold stares. Watch the thinker.
Awkward soft meditative presses on keys. Thoughts trapped in marble slowly given form. A Pause. Ambience. Slow.
The drones of nature bother me. Does anyone else hear them? Harbors of the mind waiting for ships of thought. Esuamas. Lighthouses signal them; Who, no... Something about curation. Bad stuff.
Sometimes you feel awkward in your body. These hands are mine. They seem small. Where do you go? It's thoughtfully tough. Joyce can do it. Or something. Quite a site. Quite a sight. Either works; The former works better. Accidentally. Theory of Accidentals. My face bothers me. My foot bothers me. My my bothers me. Prententions? Perhaps. But aren't we all pretentious by design? Ego Id Superego. Ego sum, ergo sum. Kalla. No, Kala. No... Fuck; it should be called proteus. Fucking hell; It's kallos. κάλλος.
Slow meditative guitars with a kind of... Prententions? LOL. Does this count as a stream of consciousness? What is a stream of consciousness? CAN you stream of consciousness? Back. A Freeze.
Nothing works. Fuck it. SIGHS. Once marble is carved it's carved; Can't uncarve it. Just throw it away and start again. Are there enough blocks? Scary thought. Better study the act of thinking. Sometimes you can fix a mistake in a carving. I did it just now. It's always at a place where you're working, though. Where you finished, no more. You run risk of destroying your work and turning it into something... Quite different. A pause. Not here, but where the ellipses were. I hope that's correct. Two "l"'s. Remember that.