days and I

A day is a big canvas that is painted by the universe before I wake up.
Viewed from a distance, days drift past like poetry floating on a cloud drizzling me with droplets of paradise.
Lovely stuff.
Have another sip of Shiraz.

On closer look though…

My real day is more like waking up in a movie that plays at speed multiplied by two, to a reality I barely comprehend and a script that arrives late.

My deliberate intent to have a ‘smooth’ day does not re-paint that canvas or slow the day down, all it does is fiddle with my attitude.
I have concluded that there is a sovereign entity called ‘a day’ and then there is ‘I’ who is part of everything else that paints this canvas. I am then mercilessly merged with that day. It helps if I try and be content with that because the day will happen upon me regardless and everyone else keeps on painting.

How do I approach a day when I wake up after a night of restlessly purging nightmares, or when I open my eyes thirty-thousand feet high squashed in coach-class, or stare at the ceiling in a stuffy flat in the concrete jungle, or without any possessions on a park bench?
What do I do when this is another day where I feel like Mr Nothing and I am clueless and I am lost?
What do I do now that I know, that I don’t know how this day is gonna shape up?

Jumping up all groggy, croaking and moaning is one way to say, “Hey, I’m still around and ready to face you head-on, just give me a moment.”
Meditating just after waking, – before coffee, workout and all, undoubtedly has a soothing effect on the irascible morning mood.
Bonding with nature by walking barefoot on dew-drenched grass at dawn, while energising and re-vitalizing, changes nothing of the day either.

Some days go easy and smooth and I accomplish great things at super speed and on other days, every time I look at the clock, its a few hours later and nothing has happened.
I still haven’t been able to figure that one out because it’s not for my lack of wanting it to happen.

Good days for instance, when everything works, should be stored as templates so that other days can base themselves automatically on such acquired intelligence. Where I come from that’s called learning. But days won’t have any of that. I mean we’ve been waking up ever since we’ve existed, – as long as humanity has been around. That should have ironed out the very last glitch in waking up and sorting our days. But it clearly hasn’t.
Why not?
Has evolution overlooked something?

I want to nail each day perfectly. I am also convinced that even the most difficult questions, this being one, have a simple answer. If it doesn’t, then I’m either looking at it wrong or it’s man made. Wearing academic lenses presses my nose flat against the fish bowl bluring any clarity and trusting in a divine plan is no ticket for finding an answer either.

So how do I get a perfect day?
Well it seems that it depends entirely on how well I can navigate the unpredictability of the billions of ripples that other elements cause in my day.
It’s like flying at warp-speed through galaxies of stars avoiding collision at all cost. One wrong move and you have an argument, a crash, a dis-ease…

A day is an unemotional and impartial constant of chaos I am always subjected to.
A day has so much paint on it’s canvas that if it were audible it would just be deafening noise.
A day actually isn’t alive. I am the only one alive and I do the growing (evoluting) or stagnating.
Only I have the ability of using a tool that has become super-sophisticated with time.
I can think!
Therefore, I can choose what of the day I like and where I must duck and dive and (re)act.
I can choose to operate from a basis of ethics. I can be mindful and gentle or I can behave irrational, believe nonsense, create disasters, abdicate responsibility and be fanatical.

Here’s what differentiates between just another day and ‘my day:’
My thoughts, and, my being aware.
To be aware I have to be present with my senses in the now. All five, six, nine, 21 or 57 of them.

Those senses require a big processor with a large memory and firmware with actions called instincts hardwired which speed up my lethargic decision making process.
It makes a significant difference if I keep that processor in tip-top shape.

I feed it only the finest, purest ingredients and pamper it with care, – most of the time.

For better days!

Let go!

The concept of space, time and matter is an illusion!

I’m dead as far as most physicists are concerned.

Aren’t those the building blocks of a universe?
Isn’t that the foundation of reality?

But hey…


Here is a synopsis of what I have observed:
I buzz around a fictitious lamp till I expire.
Anxiety. Depression. Disappointment. Disillusionment. Darkness. Turmoil.
Nothingness. Cluelessness. Lostness.

Maybe even on my bedside table.


My meditation the next morning focused on only one thing:

‘Letting go.’


Undoubtedly, I concluded later, there exists an unmeasurable dimension.





Let go and wonder for yourself.