Sometimes thoughts get in the way. I still have them, but I also recognize their blocking of being.

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time drinking form the fount of knowledge over the years. Fifty years, and I am drunk on knowledge and thoughts, which is something that seems sensible until you reach that place where you realize that much of it is mindgames and shoving things into artificial little boxes that are rarely empirically-derived categories and factoids, tidbits and knowhow.

Now[…] don’t go by reports, by legends, by traditions, by scripture, by logical conjecture, by inference, by analogies, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, or by the thought, ‘This contemplative is our teacher.’


While I am not against reason, I think it sometimes becomes the lazy way of “knowing” something via inference and extrapolation. I don’t know that direct knowledge is transferrable without the experiential to inform it. I can read how to shoemakers make shoes, but until I make a shoe, I do not know the how of shoemakers making shoes. And even then — assuming I start making shoes based on the information provided, is my experience the same as another shoemaker, or is it my gloss of the experience?

Do you perceive blue in the same way as I perceive blue. Maybe I’d look at how you perceive blue and say, “no no no — that is red, not blue.” Is reality then possibly mutable? Is there any way to test this? I think not. In that case, do we know anything without experiencing?

I adhere to the [attributed to] Leary quote that “Reality is the only word in the language that should ALWAYS be used in quotes”.

A bit of a ramble here today, sorry.

What I’m getting at: I’ve spent the past five, maybe ten, years actively trying to lose what I previously considered knowledge, doubting that it is anything of the sort. Reduction to the experiential, in ways, rather than accepting intuited via reason or from the experience of others. And as such, I’m always reaching to find the real experiences that intrigue me, that seem important.

And I’m quite enjoying being the dumbest person in the room at times. No pressure to have something witty or intelligent. I can just let everything wash over me and sometimes things stick.

You’ve seen some “twisting” “turning” stuff in my writing lately. Those are the wrong words, but they’ll have to do. But I feel that there is a different experience just beyond our perception, a more-real experience. And all you have to do is twist the world to get there.

Just thoughts, folks. Something to shelve under “madmen/Michael Raven” in your internal hierarchal file-cabinet of personalized assessments of the people you encounter.

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