Quantum Flux and the Nature of “Reality”

Like the old Robin Williams quote, “Reality… What a Concept!”

In our society, there is this concept called REALITY. Except the more science learns about this World, the concept of this thing called “reality” keeps getting called into smaller and smaller bits (quanta is the term if you will). According to the most cutting edge science, “reality” is more and more the Illusion/Maya of the Ancients (who of course knew a lot more on more subtle levels than Modern Man thought they did).

In “reality” there isn’t One Reality to Rule them all, but some Seven Billion Realities happening every second (or even more frequent) every second of every day.  If many of those who are fiercely fighting tooth and nail against any kind of ‘change’ much less “CHANGE” were to realize this, the quanta would hit the fan.

In my ‘reality,’ there is this thing popularly called ADD, and it’s partner/sister diagnosis ADHD. It’s a condition that more and more of our society are becoming subject to (and those mentioned above are railing at the concept of). It’s (depending on the persons and their politics involved) ‘the Government,’ or ‘The Psychiatric Establishment/Drug companies (/conspiracy),’ or, the really popular opinion, ‘just plain bunk.’

In other words… No One Knows. In my knowing, it is a very real set of conditions. But back to that concept of “reality.”

In each of our lives, in every second of every day, we are being bombarded by sensory input or stimuli. It comes in the form (for most) of the Five Senses. We are bombarded by touch, feel (heat, pressure, etc), sight, sound and to a lesser extent (for most of us – the real Foodies excepted here), taste.

In My Reality, ADD is not a ‘can’t pay attention to anything’ condition, but a ‘pays attention to EVERYTHING’ one. I (and all of you Others like me), did not receive the neural chemistry to block out external stimuli to a sufficient extent that we can focus on ‘only one thing.’ This is most often what leads to that other associated condition (to a greater or lesser extent) called Creativity. The Creative takes in external stimuli and outputs Art (or Dance, or…). Paying Attention to Everything is the central core of the Creative. The Creative takes All of the stimuli and coalesces it into their interpretation of ‘reality.’ In ‘reality’ Van Gogh probably did see the “Starry Night” as he painted it. Which brings me to…

In the Greater Reality, there is not just the physical Illusion of ‘reality’ but also the Energy that Created it. That takes ADD to a whole ‘nother level of complication in the already complicated mess of stimuli. For those of us who are even less able to block out External (and internal) stimuli, the constant flow of Energy on the Meta-Physical level ADD’s to what we’re already receiving.

In my head, I hear all of the objections from those of you who think this is careened into Extreme Woo Woo territory, but a number of those probably stopped reading after the Robin Williams quote (if they even decided to come and read this in the first place. And further into the Woo Woo is that I ‘feel’ many of those thoughts in the day to day moving through and amongst the Rest of Humanity.

In conclusion, (everyone giving a ‘lecture’ always says that)… I experience what most people experience, but manage to block out – through daily rituals like going to work and eating at usually highly specific time, watching TV/films and listening to music. You block the Madness out because you can. I can’t. For me, it comes out in Creativity and the constant influx of Ideas BIG and small. It’s always been like this. I work on one Idea and then another one comes crashing/barging into my consciousness in the next instant. This is why the Daily Rituals and I don’t really work. And it makes it hard for me to find someone else who is both similar to/but different enough to make a relationship work with.

In the end, it’s not that I ‘can’t pay attention to anything,’ I’m always paying attention to, and developing/creating Art, from that Everything. It’s not that I ‘can’t focus on one thing and do that well’ as I have Creations in just about every creative form that I can. Some call that “Genius,” others call it “Madness,” and still others call it ‘just an excuse.’ You should be so unlucky.  

Vanity- vs. Self-Publishing

Two points: Vanity Publishing is just that -- Vanity. Self-Publishing is for those of us who need to publish crafted, polished work that is out of the Publishing Mill (not mass market material).

I am currently adapting a 'novel' into a script. It was 'published' because he could, through one of the legitimate 'vanity' options, Creataspace (self pub arm of Amazon). That said, it is a rough piece of work. He didn't pay to have it edited, and so it is largely unreadable. I am trudging through it because he is the son of a (now gone) friend who helped me in the past.

On the other side is Self-Publishing. That is what I am currently undertaking to do. For that/ towards that end, I have created my own literary imprint (taking the steps to insure that it is as professional as I can make it). I have designed my own Cover (because I am also a fine artist). I laid the interior out being a former graphic artist. I am needing editing because a professional friend says it needs it. My Friends' son did not pay to have it either professionally laid out or edited, therefore it is not going to be 'sell-able' for the near term future.

This is the pit of Vanity Publishing. You can pay to have your 'book' made into a very nice looking book. But as the old saying "you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear" comes to mind. Vanity P goes to the 'my story is fantastic, and it's gonna sell a whole lotta copies' person. Everybody has a story to tell, but does it reach beyond their personal world to universal themes? And can they write? This last one is a big one. The Writers Guild of America Registration office is full of 'scripts' better used as doorstops. Poorly written, conceived and executed. The Vanity Presses attract the same 'quality.'

I've been writing for thirty (well, if I consider my first 'short story' **much** longer than that) and have written several thousand pages, and not a couple of hundred, and my work still needs editing. Most Vanity Publishers are not going to go to that extent because... They're not professional writers. They're just a Schmo with a Sto(rey). Interesting to friends and family (my friend's book has sold all of four copies -- one of those to me for adapting purposes), but to very few others. Most people can't discern if their writing is good. There but for Vanity go they...

That said, "Chicken Soup" and "Conversations with God" were both self-published. We all know how that went. Hard work and extra-ordinary material from professionals found their respective markets and were then picked up by traditional publishing houses -- the Dream for all Writers in Self Publishing (when our books are professionally done and contain striking, and not overly familiar, content. I present to you... Self-Publishing.

Finding “The One”

I still hear people (ok, women mainly) talking about finding “The One” in a relationship sense, and that somehow they will ‘know’ “The One” (or he will them) by instinct. Perhaps when you really are standing in front of “The One” you will know, I want to tell them, but it hasn’t happened to me. Yet.

Now I’ve thought that I had found The One before, several times. Yes. Well, no, I didn’t. Obviously, I’m still single (or rather, single after I thought I’d… Well, you know).

The ‘magical thinking’ is, Once I’ve found The One, all will be well, for the rest of our lives together. It’ll be perfect bliss, and we’ll never look at another person (other than The One) ever again. Perfection, and then ‘happily ever after.’ That’s what we’ve been programmed for. Right?

And then, a few years ago I was introduced to another version of The One. I would go through a lot of other The Ones’ to find out I didn’t know who The One was supposed to be. In other words, all the ‘small stuff’ would have been taken care of and it was time for the ‘Large Stuff’ to hit the fan. You would know you had met The One because… Well, because The Stuff was hitting The Fan.

When I met The Woman who was to become Wife Number One, I had heard about her from the woman I was living with at the time (an Ex who was ‘just’ a friend at that time). I knew a lot about This Woman, and then I heard her drive up in her van and went out to meet her. She had turned off the Van and was sitting there listening to Our Favorite Song. Yes, it couldn’t get much more The One-ish than that, right? (“Song to the Last Whale” by CSN)

I ‘knew’ that she was The One (at least for then). We tumbled into a relationship, and then into the ‘deeper commitment,’ and then (a year and a half later) The Divorce. This was The One, Part One.

More than a few years later (and several The One’s later), I met The One, Part Two. I knew she was not the most stable One I had known, (and I had known a few Unstable One’s in between Part One and her, to become Part Two). I knew from the start that there would be more Stuff hitting The Fan, but I fell in love anyway; the whole “Love Conquers All” thing (except that it didn’t).

So when I hear Women talking about The One, I One-der. What do they think The One is going to look like? “Hey Mr. Fantasy/play us a tune…” (once again revealing my age). How many The Ones’ have They been through, I wonder?

Now, please understand, I would love for The One to walk into my life. But based on the model of The One as precursor to The Stuff Hitting The Fan (with the other The One’s I’ve met and fell in love with), I kind of wonder if I should be looking that intently for her. A few years ago, disillusioned in life and love, I began to think in terms of the un-magical thinking of “I’m not looking for Ms. Right, I’m looking for a good fantasy.”

Oh, I still have my fantasies of finding The One, but until she presents herself, I’m working along the lines of looking for The One in the transpersonal sense, and not worrying about the relational sense. Working on working, and finding on the career level allowing me to afford The One on the personal level when I can afford to afford The Luxuries that most Modern Women seem to deem The Requirements of The Relationship of Their Dreams.

Until then, it’s a good thing I have many things on my various to-do lists besides “I Do.” I’ve already been in the Stuff Hitting The Fan phase too many other times. I look around me and see many possibilities for The One, but no One has stepped in front of me with the accompanying Song denoting This Is Her. There are many wonderful Possibilities around me but not, (as of yet), The One. As far as I can see, there is The Work (for now) until given/proven otherwise.

The Big Hum

In an article I read recently on an experience of a different kind of Sexual Attraction, the Author took on what most people think should be the Big Bang of Attraction and expressed that a recent experience of hers was more of a Big Hum. Instead of fireworks going off when 'he' walked into the room, she felt a deep hum begin inside of her. 

A friend of mine back East once told me, she used to think love was all fireworks, bright and loud and explosive. But then (at the time she was telling me this) she said, "I've rather come to think of it like fireflies, winking here and there in the summer night, not like explosions" that seem to flare and then disappear all too quickly. In other words, "The Big Hum." 

For those of us who hear it, the faint ringing in our ears to science is evidence of the physical 'ailment' of tinnitus, a condition that can be cured by B vitamins filling in a 'deficiency.' I've experienced this 'hum' for quite some time, but only after reading this article did it occur to me, that perhaps what I was hearing was the 'background noise' of Creation itself; this Hum being what used to be called The Music of the Spheres. Perhaps it is the sound of the Superstrings of Quantum Theory ("Harps of Heaven"?) that played this reality into existence once upon a time, humming the firefly light of Creation into existence.

Scientists have also concluded that the "Big Bang" was more of a Long Bang, not Creation in an instant, but building over time, eventually to what we are now. Most Wisdom Paths speak of Inspiration ("The Breath of God") being the quiet, still Voice from Within. Jesus said, "Be Still, and know that I AM with you." 

Creation may seem at times like an explosion, a coming from 'nothing' into Something, but instead for me it plays out as a quiet instant of Inspiration building towards a more full (ful-filled) Big Hum. Love builds (hopefully), from the first Spark into greater Glory, but hopefully doesn't disappear with a Bang.

Risk Is My Middle Name

I've been taking risks all my life.

The first risk I took was in not taking my parents fervent wishes seriously about taking my education past the two year degree that I received with the double major of Art and English to the next level. I did not really like formal education, not being very good at studying and preparing for work by deadlines (a still serious flaw of mine if you will). That did not stop me from studying till this very day, but I don't like to do anything formally, much less the gathering of knowledge.

I told them at the time (I was sure) that I could starve just as easily (being an artist) on a two year degree as much as a four or six-year set of degrees. My next youngest brother has three degrees — none of which he seems to be using in his current job (well, maybe parts of his MBA). I don't even remember what degree my sister got, and my youngest brother inherited even less of an aptitude for formalized education than I did.

The second risk that I took was baring more than my soul for art classes by being an art model. Yes, of the nude variety. It helped to pay the rent, and out of modeling for one class at a nearby community college not of my childhood county (which I would never have gone to for studying), I learned the Old Masters technique known as Egg Tempura Crosshatch. This method was from the Middle Ages, and involved mixing pigment with egg yolk.

It started me on a medium that, although I didn't keep up for too many years (it's a tedious application of painting, requiring the buildup of many hundreds or thousands of layers, stroke by laborious stroke) led me into the derivative style of drawing using the same technique but with colored pencils that I have used till this very day, (When I have the time to draw that is. I have long since tired of trying to earn a living at it, but hope to pick that business up again when my money is coming in. More later.)

If I hadn't taken that 'risk' (baring all), I wouldn't have been exposed to that technique and my art would have been the less focused for it.

The third risk that I undertook was when I was twenty-four (and this was the most major risk that I've taken in my life). I decided to try my hand at the then current mode of travel accessed by sticking my thumb out on the side of a highway and accepting the graciousness of random strangers. I learned many things at the risk of this, and thereafter called myself a roads scholar. I had many experiences that I would not have had otherwise.

Out of the experiences I had On The Road, I've written two screenplays, one of which is quickly becoming my second finished novel. I had experiences that both broadened my life, and in some cases felt like it was also going to be the end of it as well. But that obviously didn't happen.

I have also taken the risk of my life in driving cab for a living (much more lucrative on the East Coast than here), as well as having moved all the way to Los Angeles (for the second time) to try to make my mark in both acting and screenwriting.  Hope springs eternal; rent due arrives each month.

I have in the last two years also been living close to the edge, spending a lot of it couch surfing (sleeping on a variety of friends couches), and also having the most productive two years of my life at the risk of writing (large amounts of time in solitary confinement with just me and my computer). Unless you're writing solely short stories for your livelihood, writing scripts (I've finished six and written on portions of twenty-two others), or writing as a journalist, writing is not a short term solution to riches and happiness. If I could write a horror movie script that had all the elements I abhor in movies, I might have made those thousands of dollars.

Now I am taking the risk of converting those finished scripts into novel form. The longer form not only takes much more time than a script, but may be equally unsold at the end of it all.

Recently, I took another risk. I enrolled in, and attended, a weekend seminar in real estate investment. I spent (in monthly installments I am still paying off) what for me was a huge sum of money, with the hopes and dreams of making a living doing something that all of my friends and family wished me a very hesitant "good luck" in (to which my business partners and myself are still hoping to make our first sale in).

Life is full off risks. You can think that you're not taking risks, but every day you step outside the door to your dwelling, you never know where that day will take you. It might just be shopping, or then again it might be to the end of your life (as happened for five people yesterday in Arizona). You never know. "One never knows the hour or the day" that one is going to be called from this life. But everyone is always risking; some great risks, and others everyday risks. Simply by crossing the street these days you can be risking taking your life in somebody else's hands. 

With Great Risks, come Great Rewards. At least I'm hoping so.