On Being and Knowing. Milla is mentioned.

03/04/2006 9:45 AM - 10:18 AM

What is being? What is non-being? I don’t know. How could I know what non-being is? I have no data of that experience. And not having experience of non-being, how can I know the limits of being? Pure categories, these being and non-being. There is no such thing as half-dead. Nor half-alive. Even those men that die without ever having lived, lived. Notice. That is all. We cannot think the limits of being, unable as we are of experiencing non-being. Notice this. This. This.

What does the big toe of your left foot think of Natalie Portman and Milla Jovovich? How about your pancreas? Are these not you? Remember the mind of the dust before God breathed spirit into it. Do not despise the dust. There is a reason God encased the weightless soul in the thick mud, the ghost in the machine. I do not know what that reason is. Nor do you. Or, perhaps, we do. But we cannot be sure. The ground may decide not to hold our weight at any moment, but we still must walk on it. Remember this. Remember this in the dark nights. Remember this in the moment of She. Remember you are here now. Remember that the cloud of unknowing still holds you. That which you cannot know has held you all your life. As far as you can know. All of this is knowing. All of this is existing. All of this is being. Be. You are being. Notice. Notice. Notice.

Look at the birds of the air. Are you not of more value than these? No. Yes. I don’t know. Mu. I am here. I am now. That now is gone. This is now. That now is gone. This is now. Do you remember the eleventh hour of your 7,000^th day? Do you doubt that you existed at that moment? What happened to it? What happened to two seconds ago? Does it matter? No. Yes. Mu. Can you call the leviathan up from the depths? Can you issue commands to the storm? Can you sit? Can you type? Where is your spark now? Here. Here. Here. When the spark is gone, will I know it? Here. Here. Here. Sit. Just sit. Notice. Are you distracted? So is this. Let it go. Come back to this. This. This. He was and is and ever yet shall be. Where is He? There is snow on the pine tree that sits in the front of the house down the street, on the corner of Elmwood and Highland. Steamy air pours out from a metal tube in the side of the third floor wall that faces the pine tree. And now it has stopped. A dryer? The sky is a glowing gray. Where has your spark gone? Where is your spark now? Here. Praise God with noticing and with the hitting of plastic keys. Praise God with the sound of the flute and lyre. Let all that has breath praise the Lord. Do you understand? Nor do I. The metal pipe is steaming again. It is. So is Milla. I am here. You are here. Be here. Here. Here. Let all that has breath praise the Lord.