by LJ Frank
ink from my pen is suspended in a mixture of pauses between minutes as I think through why I am here at this place in life and not in another, for there is the question of intent and reason.
a design, layout, strategy and tactic that are pursued are not really a matter of choice for me, rather the opportunity of feeling movement – intellectual, emotional, and physical, and to savor existence as if in possession of something beyond its temporal nature….whether my will is a negotiating instrument of the mind or is fate ordained through genetics and cells, is an open-ended meditation…and choice is not ultimately comfort machinations of the soul; regardless, the feeling of pain and pleasure and high touch desires sensation.
the deeper experience of “willing something to happen” can be philosophically problematic for me as my actions are so very affected through the encoding of my cells, including the fortunes of circumstance, time, culture, place, family, and the woven fabric of my environs…for I do know all that exists requires the existence of another. Nothing is self-made.
one planet in one arm of a spiral galaxy; the Milky Way is among an estimated two trillion galaxies …if perchance there is one planet containing intelligent life in each galaxy, what are the philosophical theological implications alone? The list of possibilities is lengthy. Does intelligent life on other planets have a formula for peace, salvation, and eternal bliss or does all end in a dreamless sleep?
the intent of my existence is not rigid or fixed. It is liquid like a mountain stream descending courageously towards a humble place, perhaps offering a quiet pool for reflection that is able to experience the grace of stillness.