Tag Archives: aperspective

Guidance Patterns

I’m looking at the way humans discern and create patterns. We create so many patterns. We generally spend considerable energy looking for human thought patterns that provide guidance for our lives rather than looking for patterns in nature which we can better trust. We too often search for patterns in human thought and try to align ourselves to them.

Patterns of human thought require careful consideration, but they should not be quickly considered an optimum source of patterns for personal guidance. The power of our imaginations is huge. We have the capacity to think of things and imagine things that are beyond our ability to truth-test. We tend to believe things too readily, things that are not true.

We certainly have the power to create patterns. Those patterns that we create can often run against observable natural patterns and against testable truth.

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under Guidance Patterns

Challenging Beliefs

People choose to believe many things: a wide variety of things.
Things that are not compatible with each other.
And then defend them with no evidence.
Most folks are offended when they encounter beliefs which are inconsistent with their own beliefs.
Careful arguments are critical for achieving the things we need to learn.
Not arguments simply between people or about people but arguments about ideas.
We need to examine careful histories.
We need to look closely at textual criticisms.
We need to submit our ideas to scrutiny: careful, careful, scrutiny.
It’s never too late to adjust our thinking.

Leave a comment

Filed under Challenging Beliefs

My Little Ropes

Today is a rainy day,
but I had to take a walk.

So I have my favorite little umbrella
made by a company called Leighton.
It’s very steady, very well-made.
It’s double around the rim and opens very nicely.
Though slightly small it is just right for little walks.
I like it.

The woods were noisy with rainfall
but it was all rain that was caught in the leaves.
As I walked out of the woods it was quiet again.
My first stop was the little shed next to the pond.
While in the shed it poured down raining.
It was delightful.
I like sitting in that shed when it rains.

The rain eventually stopped and I moved on toward the vale.
I stopped at my first special place to sit on a rock on the near side.
I sat studying the underside of my umbrella.
What a cool design.
And then – I noticed the rope.
I think it once held up a pump down in a well.
Then it got used for other things.
But I found this 18 inch piece laying in the field
and I tied it around this tree that’s here next to where I like to sit.
I don’t know where the ropes were used last.
I’ve tied three ropes here, actually two ropes and one twine.
The twine was bailing twine. All of it is plastic.
The heavier blue and white rope that once held a well-water pump
is about a quarter inch in diameter.
The other twine is only an eighth of an inch or less.
I tied the bailing twine around a tree where I like to enter or leave the vale.
No one may ever notice it.
As a matter of fact, I don’t expect anyone to notice any of it.

Now I’m walking to the other side of the vale.
First I walked down the west bank to the vale bottom.
It’s not a steep climb down or anything.
It’s a small vale. It’s only maybe 100 feet across at the bottom.
Now I’m climbing up the east side.
I just passed the groundhog hole at the bottom of the tree.
Now I’m approaching my other favorite spot to sit.

You may ask, “Where do you sit without getting your ass wet when it’s been raining?”
I bring a plastic trash bag with me.
I unfold and set it down where I want to sit.

And now here I sit on the tree
which leans over at such an acute angle
there’s room for 4 or 5 people to sit on this tree.
It’s only 8 to 10 inches in diameter.
There is a little branch arising next to me
where there’s another blue-and-white rope tied.
I can see the other tree where the first rope is tied
but I can’t see the rope.
And I can’t see the rope at the wood line
where I will emerge when I leave for home.

It’s beautiful and green here.
There are lots of trees of different sizes.
It’s fairly rocky here too.
Some of the rocks are sharp and some are rather smooth.
That tells me something.
The sharp ones have been revealed sharp by more recent breaking pressures.
They’ve been cracked with sharp edges exposed.
The smooth ones have been weathered down by many years of rain.
It becomes obvious that water once flowed down this vale.
But it’s been a long time.

I expect glaciers left a lot of the soil here.
And trees left a lot of soil here.
Trees don’t grow very large here when there’s very little soil.
But they fall and become soil.
Then subsequent trees grow larger.
Then there’s the dust that falls to earth every day
that must add an inch every few hundred years.
The old old trees are gone entirely with no signs of the trunks
where they broke off or fell over.
There are a few trunks left from trees that have fallen over more recently.
And there are some that have been cut.
So there’s always an increase of soil.
Some of the trees seem to be growing right out of the tops of rocks.
Some trees are growing in soil that probably has good depth.
When the trees mature that have this deep soil my ropes may still be here.

My little ropes.

Leave a comment

Filed under My Little Ropes

Living Languages

Folks learn Latin because it’s a dead language.
It rarely, very rarely changes.
There are a couple of strains of it.
But it’s no longer active, dynamic.
English is the language I was born into.
I learned French in high school for four years.
At one point I even dreamed in French.
My point here is that languages are dynamic, active languages that is.
Our words change.
We give the same word new definitions.
Each generation comes up with new definitions, new ways to use words, new combinations.
We get attached to the language we used growing up.
Then, sometimes, we discover meaning beyond words.
Then we seem to be much slower at looking for new words new ways to say things.
I have made up lots of words.
And it’s important that we do that occasionally.
We look for words to represent realities that we have not found words to represent before.
For years I introduced myself to new words that I did not know before
so that I could speak more clearly.
But I try to use words, even when making them up,
that are relatively discernible to anyone thinking about what I’m saying.
I’ve read about things you can say in Russian that you cannot say in English.
There are no English words for them.
We dumb ourselves down by using the wrong words.
Like the word “word” which is the translation that we use for the word “logos”.
Just as an example, the word “logos” is a huge meaningful word.
That does not mean “word”.
And that mistranslation has produced all kinds of garbage
that people say to each other that is not true.

Words have always been a moving target.
Words never stay the same.
Our language is dynamic.
We grow with what we can say.
You can pick a point in time and try to perfect your grammar.
And by the time you complete that it will be meaningless or nearly so.
It’s critical that we love and even worship truths.
If we attach ourselves to words truths will escape us.

Leave a comment

Filed under Living Languages

I Talk with Trees

I talk with trees
because I have to.
I certainly love people
but I have to talk with trees.
People tend to know too little
and believe too much.
What trees know and can share with me
is better than what most people believe and will share.
From their invisible parts below the ground
to their visible parts extending way above the ground
trees never deny that they are fractals in any way.
It is a treasure to know what you are.

I am a fractal also.

And the trees have helped me to understand this.
It’s good to know where you came from and how you grew.
It’s good to know that when you stop, when it occurs to you that you are dying.
You can increase the value of what you leave behind.
When a tree dies other fractals live in it.
This wouldn’t happen so much if we always buried them.
Year after year, green after green, trees know what to do.
They teach me how to live, how to produce, how to maintain,
where to find joy, and how to be alive.
They teach me how to share.
They teach me flexibility in the wind.
They teach me how to grow right up against other trees, other people that are different from me.
They teach me how to appreciate people that are different from me.
And they teach me how to be me.

I use words to speak to you.
But words are a mere shadow of thoughts compared to the language of trees.
Trees never lie to me.
Trees never hide from me.
Trees never try to deceive me.
Trees do not believe things that are not true.
This makes them rather superior on numerous levels.
We knock them around and knock them down and they come back.
I’ve been knocked around and knocked down.
The trees teach me how to stand up again and do better.

It’s not that grass and flowers have less to share.
Nor that they know less or are less.
But trees are less ephemeral
and easier for me to relate to visually.

I encourage everyone to spend some time in the trees.
Watch them closely.
Listen to them closely.
It is amazing what they can contribute to your life.

Leave a comment

Filed under I Talk with Trees

Fractal Admission

There’s nothing to see but fractals: fractals and fractal fragments – there is nothing else to see.
Misperception of this phenomenon trashes the fractal world.
We should avoid the practice of seeking permanence.
We should focus on fractal qualities.
The things we love about life the most are fractal beauties.
Fighting for permanence destroys fractal beauties.
Yes, there are numbers associated with fractals
but fractals extend far beyond our numbering.
Things are less complicated than most folks think.
The simplicities of repeated fractals extend beyond our imagination.
We need to acknowledge that we think in fractals,
everything in our minds is fractals,
not just the things around us that we perceive,
but everything that we think is fractals.
Our imaginations can diverge from the fractal patterns,
but when they do it becomes destructive, they produce no beautiful fruit.

Take a walk in the forest, an unkept forest.
Notice how the locations and the growth patterns of the trees that are unkept by people
are all in perfect order.
They are in a fractal pattern, beautiful.

We must learn how to rise to our optimum power
and then learn how to diminish and to yield to subsequent fractals.
The trees understand this.
They know how to grow up and then diminish without ever failing to give:
to receive what’s free and give what ever they collect.

I have collected.
And you may have at all.

We must never grow in arrogance.
We must resist believing things which are not true.
The world did not begin evolving one day and then another day claim it was complete.
Every aspect has always been evolving.

This does not mean that our imaginations should be thwarted.
But even our imagination should connect to fractal patterns that precede us.
This means no diminishment in creative extensions of ourselves.
It means far more creative, and far faster, and far more meaningful extensions
that are sometimes pretested and viable.
We do not know that there is any end of new things under the sun,
but the new things under the sun continue to evolve,
continue to make new things – always.
Arising from our fractal roots there is no end to what we may become.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Bardic Aperspective

1
The mouth is opened.
You can see the labor camp inside
working on the words to end all words,
at least for a while,
at least to hint an end exists,
pressing the strategic geometry of influence
to restate the circumstantial evidence
into metaphors of the ineffable,

something,

to eclipse both the final say and sayer.

The feet that bring that good news
matched only by the
beautiful belly buttons of better bards,
the omphalos of humanity.

2
A cloud is rising beyond the trees.
It’s in the air, you know.
We breathe it.
The birds know this substance well.

Full of thought and being,
ghosts live there, you know.
We breathe it.
Spirits know this substance well.

Inhaling all the common memes
we hold our breath and dive in search of life.
Exhaling speaks the blue-green mantra,
Stokes the fire, affirms the strife.

Each thought we breathe informs a story:
we see now how they spin their glory.
Word-weary we wait…
we breathe.
We fan the flame and wonder.
What gods have put together
Let no one put asunder.

3
Vital vapors reach a verity of height and heat,
cool into words and descend.
The best neither fogs a friend
nor floods a foe,

but infuses life with life.

4
So many sentient poets now
afloat beyond belief
to challenge all pat answers
and ever seek relief
from arrivals on the scaffolding
still weary from their climb
who want to set up housekeeping
and corner every rhyme.

“This is not it! We are not done!”
The fervent mouths will shout,
“Rest and then arise again
and work the inward out!”

5
It sounds so simple when you say so.
The air sparkles with largesse
and I fly before I think to flap.

It’s the itchy dreams that form us, you know.

These dance
when, at last,
they hear the music.

But never because they
know they know
they know

the steps.

1 Comment

Filed under Bardic Aperspective