Journal

Oe begins to perceive the whole of one’s life, wherever one looks in it, as something like a continuous, vivid tapestry.

One thing I've learned is that there really are two in us. There's one who's facile, who lives in this world, who sort of knows his or her way around, who's reasonably comfortable, knows the score until there's no score left. And then there's another one in us: much deeper, the person of feeling, the person who is looking out from within this superficial carapace, looking out on this world and feeling what's at stake.

What would it mean to "pull the plug" on problems, then to pause, then to re-engage? What prevents me from taking these authentic steps?

Let’s look at scale in human biology. “I contain multitudes.” This is another example of “As above, so below,” but now with “me” ostensibly as the “above.” Our bodies host interacting systems of microorganisms on scales we cannot see unaided; we are unaware of these systems unless something goes awry.

Scale is comparison of sizes. It is the idea of something immensely larger than us or intensely smaller, using ourselves as the reference point. Were it not for scale as an ordering of phenomenon, our minds might be flooded by confusion about a lack of place.

One of the most vexing paradoxes we face in this life lies in trying to understand the scope of our responsibility.

The ordinary self, centered in personality, needs to be transformed for essence to grow and take its proper place. Self-observation, seeing and knowing, are a means of transformation.

Who am I? My essence can know who I am. It is my essence that sees.

With an impression received directly, there is no middleman here. No deceit. There is only innocence.

What is the highest and best work I can do each day? Perhaps it is to ensure that I am open to receive. For this, I need to pause, to be still.