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Yesterday I filled in the role of God.

I would love to believe that God watches over the weak and innocent. I would be comfortable knowing that my existence is frameworked under the ever watchful eye of the Supreme Being. But life has taught me otherwise. God does not occupy itself with meddling in the mundane things of the world. God has no "invisible hand" as much as it doesn't have an invisible tentacle. This God remains a mystery. Whether it is because of the consequences of the randomness of the universe or whether some event was pre-arranged by higher forms of consciousness,  recently there was a moment where I could choose selfishly and obtain something I longed for. These moments have always been as clear as day to me. I've always known right from wrong and discerned selfishness from selflessness. So... a few days ago I was treated to the most moving display of loyalty and love, by someone I had already decided to move on from. It was there and then that I had to make this hard choic...
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When the Shit Hits the Fan

When the shit hits the fan, that's when you know who was for real and whose ass was fake. The definition of "I" is a condensation of your life experiences within the vehicle inhabited by a fragment of the infinite. The real I is thus That, without identity, without a name even. As long as you believe it resides in you it is your ego. When you let go, it is That. When the shit hits the fan, that's when you know who was an incarnation of something greater and who was just a composition of random neurones firing for the sake of self preservation and procreation. That is why, my friends, always keep a fan handy or nearby. The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you and neither is this text. You bring in sense to the universe through your interpretation of it. Thank you for the Divine tragedy, thank you for the Divine comedy. Life lives through me, and not I through life. No I, no my, not mine, no knower, just knowledge. I am that. Kodoish kodoish ko...
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A Pure Heart

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Sometimes I reflect upon our conversations. -"How old were you when you went to Rodrigues?" -"I was 9." That happened 20 years ago. Even today Rodrigues isn't exactly known for its hectic lifestyle - it's mostly quiet, empty and to be honest: boring. -"Weren't you bored? What did you do the whole day?" -"No baba! There were animals... dogs, goats, chicken... I played with all of them! I loved it!" That made perfect sense. I too used to love animals too when I was a kid. I still do... but then at that time all animals were friendly towards me and I used to play with them all the time. I suddenly remembered myself as a kid. I had changed, but she had not. She was still the same kid, and animals still trusted her.
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No Roadmap for Existence

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The only pattern within chaos is its lack of pattern. The universe, existence and thus life is pure chaos. We try hard to build models of predictability within the minuscule time frames of our lives only to discover that constants were variables and what we assumed to be infinite or immortal was just our naïve selves seeking existential comfort. I have witnessed myself becoming significantly smarter, and significantly dumber. A considerable strength that I thought was granted eventually vanished, only to be replaced by pills and frequent visits to the doctor. I am not disconcerted. Life is as I see it, it is the way I decide to see it. I do not cry for what I have lost, nor do I relish at the thought of what is to come. Life lives through me, and not I through life. No I, no my, not mine, no knower, just knowledge. I am that. Kodoish kodoish kodoish Adonai tsebayoth. Har Om Tat Sat.
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