In Which A Meditation on Time is Boarded by Pirates

05/09/2006 6:53 AM – 7:15 AM

Human beings have a very vague sense of the passage of time. When deprived of the movement of the sun, our bodies loose the rhythm of sleeping and eating and waking. The internal schedule cannot be maintained without external verification.

But still we must sleep and wake and eat and poop. Eat, drink, sleep, wake, make dirt, pass water, breathe: this is the sole requirement of existence. But letting go of all that, where are we again? Where are we other than sitting here at the desk? Yes, being a pirate. The pirates were villains – thieves and murderers, and yet, here I am, being a pirate. There is what a pirate is and what it is to be a pirate. They are the same thing, but they are different. But that’s the wrong way to say it. Not two, not one. That, in its vagueness, is more exact. What advice do I have for myself today? Sit still.

Forgetting everything except what is at hand, I continue. Continue to remember this right now. Forgetting to plan, which is the future, forgetting to remember, which is the past; I will just sit and type. Sit up straight with a higher cushion under your butt (to keep your back from hurting too much). Half close your eyes (to keep them from drying to quickly) and stare at a point on the floor. With every breath, count off until you reach ten. Then start with one again. If at any point your attention drifts from counting (even if you’re able to keep counting without giving full attention to it) start with one again. I made it to seven once today. It is being awake, not merely slowing down. Though there is some slowing down. Unfortunately, this counting thing ties you to the passage of time. In order to count, you must remember what came before and plan what is going to come next, but for a novice like myself, this will have to do. I think (though I’m not 100% on this) that it eventually becomes possible to leave the numbers behind. It is possible to come down to “in… out…” but this too makes reference to the past and future. I think, somewhere down the line, it just becomes “this… this…” and then, sometime after that, it’s just breathing, without names. Maybe it comes in flashes. Probably, in fact. In one instance, you’re counting, then, next thing you know, you’re just being in time. A pirate. Damn it.