A friend told me about some high-performance electric car that had various running modes and one of them was named Ludicrous. I think that’s the mode we’re all stuck in right now. How many do you know, after all, whose views really makes any sense, given what you know and can see with your own eyes? Keen discernment is required to sort out the truth these days, my friend. Such a complex, noisy web surrounds it.
So he’s telling me about this car and how it will be updated via software downloads periodically, adding new features and capabilities. I think how that is like what the nano particles do–build the intraweb, enhance the circuitry, expand what you can do, what you can send and receive. And they fit how many in the needle of a syringe? Billions? Is that something like the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin?
See? What a ludicrous world it is in which we find ourselves–a surreal ever-changing sci-fi movie. Except it’s real. And we’re alive and smack-dab in the middle of it, hoping we tucked a flashlight of some kind in our back pocket. The more you think about it, the less you understand. It can be confusing. Disorienting. Painful.
Don’t let it get you down. These are trying times for us all. When things hurt, I repeat Tara Brach’s wise words: “This is suffering. Everybody suffers. May I be kind.”
That’s one the things I love the most about us human beings. Our capacity for kindness. What a loss it would be if that was reduced to a program, to a set of prescribed social rules and nothing more.
But to change the subject entirely (a routine practice in Ludicrous World), I wanted to share that I’m moving right along with my “Hundred Bottles of Hours” practice, where I take an hour every day to compose a love note, tuck it into today’s bottle, and send it, via my blog, downstream to wherever.
Yesterday was Day 12 and I posted views from my studio window over a two-day span. I enjoy doing series of things. I like the old rippled glass in the upper window’s center panes. It reminds me of the glass in my grandmother’s house. I like the way the snow plow looks like a Tonka toy way down there. I like the warmth and softness of the drapes at night, as the sun sets.
It’s letting yourself do what you really love doing that keeps you sane. Immerse yourself in it on some kind of regular basis. You deserve it. You need it. Follow your bliss, as the hippies used to say. That’s good advice. Get in touch with the pools of goodness inside you and let them remind you that, however ludicrous the world may seem, in the center of your being Truth resides. And its beautiful, and good.
It’s freeing to step out of the world’s craziness for a while. It’s always there, the jangling of a phone, a flicker of a screen away, waiting to pull you back. The trick is always to go back to it with an easy smile, seeing it for what it is, letting your heart guide you through its twisted maze. And don’t worry. If you weren’t needed, you wouldn’t still be here. At least they tell me that’s the way that it works. There’s always something more for you to learn and to do, to give and to receive.
That’s worth a smile.
Look somebody in the eye and pass it on.
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay