MindWind


Loneliness and Difference
March 22, 2008, 5:32 am
Filed under: Philosophy

 “From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.”

- “Alone” Edgar Allan Poe

Do not jump into conclusions by reading this. It is merely an observation I have made.

 What does it mean to be different? 

Is it something strange? An anomaly? Something overly contrastable from the majority? Are not we all different from each other? I understand that most people share similar qualities and common goals… but a few of us do not. We have different tastes and interests. Sometimes this difference can alienate us from the rest of the herd.

 It gets awfully lonely in the forest sometimes. 

Sometimes, unable to deal with this loneliness, we try to fit in with the rest of the herd; mimicking their actions and emulating their thoughtstreams. For a while, we are content but after sometime we realize that we are not. We, after all, were merely living in an illusion we created and such illusions are not meant to last. For us, happiness is in truth and not in illusion. Perhaps that is why one such as I, does not find happiness in illusionary things for a very long time. Interesting.

Realizing our follies, we revert back to our original selves, re-establishing our original behavior and re-realizing our true desires or goals. Then the herd begins to see through us. Some of them may accept us, and some of them may not. Either way, the process of slow isolation begins, initiated by the herd or by oneself. Once again, we find ourselves alone.

Yet among the herd we find others who are like us, who think a little differently than the rest of them. And with such entities we form bonds, and such bonds are built on our common desires. Such bonds last for a longer time, for they are based on un-pretended reality.

The isolation transforms into something else as such others move away from the herd with us. Together we form our own herd of sorts, a herd of hermits. And together we do as we please, unhindered by the norms of the larger herd.

However, we are all connected as we our actions influence the thoughtstreams and the eventstreams of everyone, hermits and the herd included. The hermits are connected to the herd and vice versa, though they may not be of the same community. The hermits prefer to observe, both the herd and the hermits themselves, which may be the reason for us hermits to come up with ideas deemed strange or horrific depending upon context.

But truly, we are alone. As individuals, we live in our own worlds despite of our “common” attributes. We face our challenges and joys alone. We face life and death alone. The others may influence us, but if you strip away that influence, you see that all decisions made in your life are made by you. You always have the power to agree or to oppose. You are alone. Are we to despise such loneliness or embrace it and what it has to offer? Can you reject the degree of independence and power it has to offer?

The powers of unbounded thought and freedom to enjoy as one pleases free of the hindrances of society’s norms and forced thoughts; I find this so seductive. But the wise would know that all actions have consequences: Cause and Effect. Therefore, freewill does come with a price. But for one such as I, it is a price that is worth its weight.

What use is there in rejecting reality? As I said before, illusions will never last.

[Authors note: I wrote this as an observation. I have no intention of insulting anyone or their goals. I do not judge Loneliness and Difference to be “good” or “bad”.  Such things depend on context. Feel free to express your thoughts on the comments. I look forward to it.]



Willful Writing
March 21, 2008, 5:11 am
Filed under: Philosophy

I have learned something recently, and thought of sharing it with you.

Most of you know now that I am a capable writer and that I enjoy writing to the point of expressing most of my feelings through writing. But when I sit in front of my screen I find myself blank sometimes. I try to force articles out of me but nothing is produced. Eventually, a feeble excuse of an article is written, resulting in bad reviews and disappointed looks.

I cannot write awesomely at will. That is the lesson learned.

The revelation was quite alarming. How would I ever trust my ability if I could not write at will? How do I use my creativity if I could not summon its powers at will? I began to lose faith in myself, as one normally would when one doubts the best of ones abilities.

Then a still voice within me spoke the words of wisdom.

“Relax. Force is not the key.”

And then I remembered all the times when inspiration flowed through me like the gushing waters of the Mahaweli River during the rains. Each time that happened, I never tried to force it out of me. I simply relaxed and waited for the words to come out. There is no force, save for the force within.

Being the analytical grump I am, I researched on this for a more scientific or logical answer, and I was duly treated to a good one.

Our Mind never stops thinking. It thinks even when its asleep (hence the dreams and the waves), and it will continue to do so until we die. Therefore the Mind is almost inexhaustible when it comes to ideas. However, the more I force myself to come up with ideas, the more work I give my Mind. When I force it, I involuntarily scream at it, demanding results, throwing a bit of a tantrum like a silly five-year-old. The entire process consumes far too much mental energy and processing time of the Mind, since the Mind can only focus on one thing at any given moment. In the end, all I feel is stress and anger at the incomplete task at hand.

Thus, I have rephrased my method of success into a set of steps so that anyone could follow it:

Clear your Mind.

Now I don’t mean to sound like a hippy, but this is an essential step. It will help you focus your mental energy and avoid unnecessary thoughts. Basically what we are doing here is preparing our Mind for an increase in efficiency. If you are a meditative person, clearing your Mind would be relatively trivial.

 Set a goal.

You must tell your Mind what you want, firmly. For example, if you are to write an essay about Dolphins, you can tell yourself: “Dolphins. Tell me about Dolphins.” Just do this very firmly about three times and stop.

 Wait for the answer.

The internal database of your Mind is now at work. All you have to do is to wait for your query to be answered. Your Mind will start to dump out whatever you knew about Dolphins. Note that your Mind will only tell you what it knows; to get further information, you have to do some research. You must feed your Mind for it to help you out.

 Write it down!

The Mind is now open and from it shall gush forth great floods of information. Depending on you, this information may be organized or disorganized. Whatever it is, just set yourself free and write as much as you wish!!!

Pretty simple is it not?

Later on, if you wish to meet certain criteria or submission rules, you can edit what you wrote to fit the requirements. As you get better at this, the Mind will generate perfect reports automatically!

This is my cure for writers block. The method is basically to Relax, Request and Wait. RRW!!!! (Maybe I can write a book about it later… hmmmm…).

Just so you know, this article was written using this method, except I did not set a goal but rather set my Mind free and went with the flow!



Storm
March 20, 2008, 4:56 pm
Filed under: Short story

The bus was late. 

It was annoying when this happened, yet I couldn’t but wonder at the darkening skies above. Every once in awhile there would be a flash among the black clouds followed by a low rumble. Rain was upon us and I had a long busride home; longer than usual due to the overwhelming traffic that seemed to crawl in short jerks every few minutes.

I gazed at the faces of the drivers, all of them so angry or stressed, but a few of them with blank stares as they probably wallowed in some imaginary spa in their minds. The pedestrians had the advantage of movement, scurrying about like busy ants of a newly broken ant-hill, eager to get to shelter before the storm hits. 

I looked up at the sky again and it was now a churning mass of blackness, lightning forking among the gaps. There wasn’t a hint of rain yet, save for the strengthening winds and random rumbles of the sky gods. Ah the Sky Gods! I remembered the old tales my mother used to tell me on rainy days. The Sky Gods would decide the fate of the skies, and they alone would decide if there were to be rain or famine below. What did they look like? Well the traditional clothing and the crowns were the usual description. I mused at the thought of a newer Sky God, dressed in suit-and-tie. My mild laugh caught some annoyed glances in the bus stop.

Clearly, there was no mood for humour here. 

The traffic was at a complete standstill now. “Rush hour.” I heard someone mutter next to me. True, the streets of Colombo could never be empty at this time of the day, when everyone just wanted to get back to their homes and watch their favorite soap operas. And the soap operas! Full of family feuds and discreet affairs, they offered entertainment to the twisted minds of the majority. Why did people enjoy seeing the quarrels of others? I don’t know. 

I began my brisk walk home. The bus wasn’t going to come anytime soon. I’ll get home faster this way, or maybe get into another bus I meet in the traffic. Perhaps it wasn’t the most logical thing to do at the time, yet it seemed prudent, somehow. The line of vehicles never budged, and sprawled endlessly into the horizon. The darkened atmosphere gave the scene a morbid feel, and perhaps that is what made me feel apprehensive. Sometimes you feel things before they happen. And such things are usually terrifying. This was one of those times.

I walked faster, avoiding oncoming pedestrians. Thunder cracked loudly over me, and the winds blew stronger. A bunch of children ran past me towards the closest shelter. The rain began without warning. It didn’t start off as a slow drizzle, as an approaching cloud would feel, with its thinnest edge hovering over you with a gently downpour, evolving gradually into a stronger torrent. No, this was sudden and spontaneous. It felt like the clouds burst open with all their fury, the thunder and lightning providing them with wild encouragement, as we would do to the dancing drunk in the climax of a late-night party. 

The sane thing to do would be to run for cover, hoping to avoid the celestial waters and possible pneumonia. But I felt that I did not need to and so I did not. I walked as I had done when all was dry just moments ago, the rain pouring all over me, giving me the appearance of one who was pushed into a pool. I did not even bother to cover my head. I needed nothing to protect me at that moment for there was nothing to be protected. I was nothing. There was only the rain. 

Have you spent some time in the rain? Then you know that rain stimulates all your senses. You can hear, see, touch, taste and smell it. The smell of rain is a pleasant one, endowed with unearthly freshness and purity. Something hardly found upon the surface of our polluted planet. It seems to give you strange new energy and a sense of comfort, with its coolness penetrating you, its sounds imprinting themselves in your brain, much like a symphony orchestra would do, driving you into an altered state of mind, full of power, calmness and clarity. 

And in this state of consciousness I stopped my journey and stared into the dark sky above. The rain drops flew from it like shrapnel from an explosion. Thunder rumbled as lightning heralded their coming. And in the flashes of the highest skies I could see the shapes of the Sky Gods, majestic and gigantic, gazing benevolently down at the world below them. And as I saw them I knew they could see me too. In our silent exchange I learned the wisdom of the Sky Gods. A flash, and all was gone.

A charred body was left behind on earth surrounded by shocked humans, some crying, some in silence. An ascension was completed and now I gaze down upon the world I once belonged to, as my peers stand by me doing the same, directing the celestial waters to their destiny.



Madelyn
March 20, 2008, 8:25 am
Filed under: Poetry

Where had thee gone?
I seeked thy forest
I seeked thee long
And found only unrest

Fragrance, thine inbound
Only a memory as mine
Remembers like the Hound
Of fate and twisted lines

I called unto thee
And saw a cry for patience
To soon, I could scarcely breathe
Shallow, free of sensations

Of spoken words
Long gone before I dared
To close thine mouth, absurd
A moment of pain we shared

A struggle divine
As I ravaged thy body
As thou writhed under mine
And ended limp and heavy

Now into thine eyes I see
Hoping my smile would be met
But thine eyes are now empty
The Emptiness of Death



First Transmission
March 20, 2008, 5:03 am
Filed under: Announcements | Tags: ,

It appeared that the will of my peers finally coincided with my own. I was not thinking of having a blog, but after much encouragement and numerous suggestions, I thought the usual “Ah what the hell? Let’s do it!” and sprung into action.

Now I find myself wordless, for my writing mind is supressed by excitement. What will this blog lead to? Where will my ideas go into? What new thoughstreams shall be put down in this blog? How will it influence others? How will it manifest in the physical world?

 As I ponder at this, I realise that the consequences of our actions are not neccesarily our fault, as there are so many other factors at play. Relief.

 Those of you who know me will know now that I blog. Those of you who wished to see me blog will now be satisfied. Those of you who did not will be displeased. And those of you who do not care would merely search for other interesting things on the web. Am I stating the obvious here? Yes. For it is neccesary sometimes, or just plain fun to do so.

 What does one expect in this blog? There shall be ramblings, philosophical musings, poetry, some short stories, reviews and opinions. Let us not think in a box or try to establish a Genre to this blog. Let it be free flowing, much like Bruce Lee’s concept of being like water:

 ”Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend.” – Bruce Lee

And with those words of wisdom I shall now take your leave.

Expect more later.

With love and (for some) mild annoyance,
Prageeth Thoradeniya