Siddhartha

Once again, I am amazed at how books come just in time to explain what has happened. This time, I was saddened by the results of my psychological assessment, by my seeming inability to become a part of the crowd, by the harsh criticism of my way of life. I've read Siddhartha (Hermann Hesse) and found a friendly soul. My amateur asceticism has led me to the same lack of concern for daily "pleasures" as it did for the professional Siddhartha. My intuitive "fast-wait-think" philosophy has developed with the aid of different teachers but, yet, to a similar result. My pain of losing loved ones has split the reality in the midst of its serenity, just as it happened to Siddhartha. And even the same characteristic of life as a pilgrimage - going nowhere, what else?
And probably, above all, "there are no goals". These are my words repeated by Siddhartha a few times in the novel. And just as I use them - sometimes in desperation, sometimes in celebration of the perfection of this world - Siddhartha uses them too.
Then there is this allegory. My life consists of several lives: me-independent-schoolchild, me-chaotic-student, me-devoted-to-my-job, me-hating-my-job, me-athlete, me-artist, me-dancer, me-wife, me-science-fiction-character. Some of these lives are so different, so far away that it is hard to believe that I am the same person. Could it have been me - wanting to die because of a fight with my ex-husband? Could it have been me - scared to travel to the USA during my teenage years? Could it have been me - partying every weekend? And at the same time, in my every action, no matter how different it is, there is a part of all of these lives and versions of myself. And the allegory is that this is true across all people: look at a random stranger - he is a part of you and you are part of him. You are a part of your greedy president, a part of the rudest driver, a part of a murderer...but also a part of the most beautiful, clever, and kind person in the world. The identity does not exist. We are fluid, we are together. We are one.

Too Busy to Hallucinate

I am reading "Musicophilia" by Oliver Sacks. He has a part specifically designated for musical hallucinations. Now, let this thought sink: the only reason we are not hallucinating ALL THE TIME is because we are constantly bombarded by our sensory feedback.
This, possibly, explains why meditation (or prayer) is often associated with visions. Meditative training over time increases the ability to block the sensory input, giving the brain an ability to play its own movie the way it likes.
On the afterthought: who knows, maybe, we ARE hallucinating.

Lost Identity

The nature of the human is some kind of amnesia. We get born on the Earth and spend our lifetimes trying to figure out who we are. By "we" I mean every individual but also humanity in the whole. Perhaps, even the whole world - what the hell is going on here?
You may not guess, but I am watching "Bourne-Identity" movies. And they are mesmerising for no apparent reason.
Interestingly, one of the "Bourne" movies was the last fun activity we did with my ex-husband before we've got divorced. I think it was the only entertainment thing that equally amused us both. Then we've got divorced. I think Bourne movies had nothing to do with that. But who knows. At that stage of my life, I had an interesting perception that things can be made "right". Like, you know, marry the right person, have kids, work, and that together will somehow guarantee some general "life worth living". Or, bringing it back to the topic, it will offer you some identity position in life and the validity of this position. And this identity will make you less lost in the chaos of the universe. Well, I have some good reasons to believe that this won't happen.
Instead, life is like a Bourne movie. Let me talk about myself now in case someone does not experience life in this way. In the generally disoriented situation, sometimes, I find that I possess some skills, which mysteriously present themselves when the need arrives (just like Bourne's multiple languages and fighting skills). The kind of skills that I never knew existed. Then totally meaningless events sometimes arrange themselves and become pieces of a puzzle, which starts making sense. Not the whole puzzle but some pieces of it. It is often something spread in time. I ask a question, get a totally random answer, and then years later discover that this answer has given me some vital knowledge. Really vital. Something that saved my life, for example. And through these pieces of the puzzle, some understanding of the reality emerges.
There are certainly some fun hypotheses around that. For example, it could be that everything has already happened, maybe even many times. Then there is an obvious need to fit the events so that they produce the relevant result. That's quite a weak hypothesis. Another one is that we all are a gigantic super-computer trying to find an answer to the universe (which is 42 by the way). This is nothing new of course. But I am seeing glimpses of a more coherent theory. It avoids me for now.
And to add on a positive note, our monk today told us that the law of karma says that a person who kills an animal will be reborn as this animal in the next life. Since we are growing and killing cows for food, I understand now why there are so many cows!

Perpetuum Mobile

The only reason the scientists have not yet invented any device of perpetual motion is because they did not study my cat Ginger. By no means, the first or the second law of thermodynamics can stand true if one compares the amount of lost hair that she produces in my house and the amount of food she eats. The hair is definitely more by weight, spread, and more than anything else, size!
Looks like the other cat owners have also discovered this perplexing phenomenon.