Just A Few Words
I have been thinking about thinking
Thus, I have a few thoughts about thoughts
But first, I’ll say a few words about words.
We can create them from something
We can also create them from nothing
We can agree what a word means
We can disagree what a word means
We can take words personally when they don’t apply to us
We can hear words that were meant for us and ignore the message
We can use words to hurt others
We can use words to make others feel good
We can make the words very poignant
We can make words meaningless
We can make the fight over words a life and death struggle
Most of the time words don’t mean a damn thing
We rarely even think about the words that we use
Are there so many thoughts and words everywhere
That they no longer have any value?
Are the sum total of all words only an illusion that overall, just causes more confusion?
Everything that needs to be said had been said
How many times do we need to say it before people understand?
Yet we still feel like we must keep on talking, talking and talking
They have become just noise to fill up the “empty” space in our lives.
What’s wrong with a silence between two people?
We could use that time to think about what we want to say.
Of which I am afraid that we don’t do enough.
We put words together but what is it that we are putting together? A thought?
But what is a thought? A string of words put together?
A memory? But isn’t that all in the past? Gone forever?
An idea? But then what is an idea, just a thought?
So what is the nature of a word?
When you look up a word in a dictionary,
You are just using words to define words.
Suppose we say that a word is a representation of something.
Aaah, but we can also represent something that doesn’t exist.
So where is the boundary between the representation
Of that which exists and that which doesn’t exist?
Just because a person insists something exists, does that mean that it exists?
If many people insist that something that doesn’t exist exists long enough
and people believe it, does it come into existence even though
you cannot see it, feel it, taste it, hear it or smell it?
We can also insist that something is something that it is not. (Not including lying.)
We have created a society where people (and I include myself in this)
cannot tell the difference between reality and the illusions that we have created.
Do we not like to think about these things
because we are afraid about what we might find?
Or are we afraid of what we might NOT find?
* *
Thus, I have a few thoughts about thoughts
But first, I’ll say a few words about words.
We can create them from something
We can also create them from nothing
We can agree what a word means
We can disagree what a word means
We can take words personally when they don’t apply to us
We can hear words that were meant for us and ignore the message
We can use words to hurt others
We can use words to make others feel good
We can make the words very poignant
We can make words meaningless
We can make the fight over words a life and death struggle
Most of the time words don’t mean a damn thing
We rarely even think about the words that we use
Are there so many thoughts and words everywhere
That they no longer have any value?
Are the sum total of all words only an illusion that overall, just causes more confusion?
Everything that needs to be said had been said
How many times do we need to say it before people understand?
Yet we still feel like we must keep on talking, talking and talking
They have become just noise to fill up the “empty” space in our lives.
What’s wrong with a silence between two people?
We could use that time to think about what we want to say.
Of which I am afraid that we don’t do enough.
We put words together but what is it that we are putting together? A thought?
But what is a thought? A string of words put together?
A memory? But isn’t that all in the past? Gone forever?
An idea? But then what is an idea, just a thought?
So what is the nature of a word?
When you look up a word in a dictionary,
You are just using words to define words.
Suppose we say that a word is a representation of something.
Aaah, but we can also represent something that doesn’t exist.
So where is the boundary between the representation
Of that which exists and that which doesn’t exist?
Just because a person insists something exists, does that mean that it exists?
If many people insist that something that doesn’t exist exists long enough
and people believe it, does it come into existence even though
you cannot see it, feel it, taste it, hear it or smell it?
We can also insist that something is something that it is not. (Not including lying.)
We have created a society where people (and I include myself in this)
cannot tell the difference between reality and the illusions that we have created.
Do we not like to think about these things
because we are afraid about what we might find?
Or are we afraid of what we might NOT find?
* *
_Towards the horizon, I saw the wonderfully sublime multi-hued shades of the blue-gray storm clouds down the coast. The beautiful seagulls floated in one spot, then with a sudden movement they would gently flap their wings, reversing their direction and sailing quickly, riding the wind to another spot. Watching them glide and swoop for a half an hour, no one could tell me that they were not up there simply having fun. It was here that I once again regained touch with the magic of life.
One can feel it while watching the waves not only crash against the rocks but as they envelope, slide on, off and around, swirl, caress, push, gently rock, surround, wash, undulate, recede off of and melt into the rocks. As I watched them roll in, I saw so many different colors, shades, mixtures, overlapping combinations of the thousands of small ripples on the water come and go, fade and blend, constantly changing size on the top of the gentle waves. Each wave one after another constantly forming and then washing ashore. A wave is a wave but each one is not the last one. I realized that is what life is really like – constantly changing, blending, never stopping – events fading into others. This wave in front of me is not the one somewhere else but obviously the same force that makes this one is the same force that makes all of them - and makes all of us.
One can feel it while watching the waves not only crash against the rocks but as they envelope, slide on, off and around, swirl, caress, push, gently rock, surround, wash, undulate, recede off of and melt into the rocks. As I watched them roll in, I saw so many different colors, shades, mixtures, overlapping combinations of the thousands of small ripples on the water come and go, fade and blend, constantly changing size on the top of the gentle waves. Each wave one after another constantly forming and then washing ashore. A wave is a wave but each one is not the last one. I realized that is what life is really like – constantly changing, blending, never stopping – events fading into others. This wave in front of me is not the one somewhere else but obviously the same force that makes this one is the same force that makes all of them - and makes all of us.
