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If you are reading this while I am still alive, we are close in time.
Space is another dimension we’ve got to overcome. If I am no longer on the planet with you, don’t worry, we can make this work. This relationship, I mean. The entire point of this work is to open your mind a sliver to the possibility of magic in the real world, the modern world, the world where you live and where you are as you are reading this. Kinda cool, right? Me, encouraging you from this massive distance?
If we are to have any effect on one another we’re going to have to spend some time together. Space, we can deal with. Even relative time, the time you think of as linear, as your life, is flexible. More flexible than you can know, with your young human mind. That’s also part of this journey, to open your connections, to rewire a little of your listening apparatus as a human. See, you’re not taking in all the information you are being given.
You are not listening.
Still with me? You’re probably not reading enough, but we’ll get to that. For the moment, this moment we have together, as you are reading, I have one goal: to introduce myself and the concept of flexible time and space. Space is what you are experiencing now, around you. Your space. And, more importantly, your inner space. What’s going on in your mind.
Most of the time your focus is on stuff that does not matter much. Perhaps it’s survival needs, like a job, a bad relationship, an addiction. Those are lower-level survival needs. Like staring at the muddy road beneath you while walking underneath a canopy of stars. I am hoping to gently rustle you awake, like a loving father. As I would do to my kids when they needed to get up on a Saturday morning, too fucking early, to play soccer. That would be my daughter. My son preferrend hanging off the goalposts and plotting war games underneath the bleachers. Says today, he never liked team sports. Make sense, watching him as a 25-year-old, nearly 100-pound flounder, living with me. He’s less than half my weight. Took after his mom’s dad, an ultra-distance runner with a stocism that rivals Mr. Arealeus.
Your mind, not mine. Let me set the scene for you. I’m in my living room, typing these letters to some future you. I have to imagine you. Your warm smile. The delight in your eyes when we talk about what’s exciting in your life. I am listening to you. I know you can’t belive that, because we just met, but this book, if you’re follow it all the way to the end, becomes kind of a radio transmitter, a hyperwave transmitter, sending signals between us. All the time you are reading my words, and I am typing them, we are togther. You’re not going to understand this fully, until later in the book. What I want you to know is this: I am typing this as a transmission, not a novel. I am sending up a beacon of hope. Human hope. Hope against the robots, against environmental or political collaspe. Against the separation of humanity into RED and BLUE factions. We do not stack ourselves up for war without evil being involved. We’ll also leave Satan and Jesus and Hitler out of this conversation. I’ll do my best to reduce their screeches within this sacred moment, the moment of you reading what I’m typing. Us having a conversation.
Here’s what’s happening. Time is not linear. It’s one big donut. Like Homer Simpson might take a big bite of. Though you can’t see it, hear it, taste it, or touch it, the future and the past are right here, at this second, beside all of us. Humans have a limited view: I refer to this as our human viewport. From human birth to human death we have a window into the physical reality of the world in a unique an human way. That is an individual human. You. Reading. Me. Typing to you many years in your past. But see, there is no past and no future. From this side of the glass, I can see the donut. Since we have just met, I don’t know much about your life, so I have to go on telling you about mine, my ideas, my heretical ideas about time and space and love. That’s the point of my life. Unraveling time and space and love.
That’s actually the human purpose for all of us. Unraveling time and space and love. Can I show you a drawing I did to illustrate this in my science fiction universe, hyper*soul? Here, just a sec, I’ll be right back.
Wait, let me zoom out for you. I’ll provide an interactive link to the mindmap later in the book, so we can collaborate. So you can draw your map. Perhaps we will uncover the mechasim or structure for the spiritual network we humans share. The breaking of time and space is part of this spiritual network. Sometimes I refer to the ONE as GOD, but I have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m just riffing on an idea, like a jazz melody. Forgive me.
I am here = you are here. That equation is going to be unpacked. I am here typing. You are here reading. In this very second we are sharing something? What are we sharing? A conversation? An idea. A book? But I’m writing this in my real-time and you are reading it in your real-time, it’s just that our real times are out of sync in time and space.
This then, what I hope to write, create, with your help as the reader and conscious participant, at least while you are still listening to the sound of my voice in your magical head voice. How do I sound to you? To me, I am a warm middle-age fatherly figure. I think my voice sounds like that. I’m a singer too, so I might break into song from time to time. Do you play music?
Music is actually a sacred human communication. Hearing, playing, or ultimately performing, music is a powerful self-soothing process I’m going to expand for you. Later. We know music connects with our human mind in ways we don’t understand. Pulling on memories, ghosts, images, a warm or frigid feeling in our solar plexus. Music encapsulates a lot of communication. If we, you and me, could sing or play music together, we’d be communing at a very high spiritual level. Even, if we don’t fully understand it. Musicans are all scientists and lovers. That’s the goal.
Becoming Scientists and Lovers
Love is the point of life. Love is the center of the universe. Humans are either in alignment with love, or out of alignment with love. Loving themsevles. Loving others. Blaming the outside world for their oppression, or celebrating the real world for the opportunity to love. It’s more than a choice or mindset. Love is a coninuous practice. Like that “praying without ceasing thing, Zooey was trying to master in that Salinger book. Living in mindful awareness is like praying without ceasing.
Celebrating your human life and love with music or any creative act serves as the most beautiful prayer to god. I’m not going to try and comprehend or put parameters around god, God, or GOD. You can explore those concepts in your own timeline. In this one, the one we are sharing each time you read my words, I’m going to stay focused on my own inner happiness and serentiy as my goal. My inner god, inner joy, inner love.
I tend to be one of the humans who share love a bit more effusively than most. That’s me. I’ve always been loud. I’ve been a singer since my fifth-grade rockstar performance of the German Bergermeister. I’m still loud, and often singing in a foreign language. I accept my totem meme willingingly, the bull in a china closet is okay as long as he is aware of the china closet. In anger or passion the bull may lose composure and bust his way out of the closet. An aware bull is a safe bull. Beware of triggers and stinging insects. We can never forget Ferdinand.
I am loud. I talk in my singing voice. With confidence and resonance. My best friend has to adjust his hearing aid when I come over. He is delighted by the lively banter. So am I. He’s 81 and undergoing additional radiation therapy for prostate cancer next week. He is my muse. For loving everyone around him. For showing strength and humor in the face of daunting odds. Continuing to play tennis and gold as much as his heart and aging body will allow. And the weather. Did I mention we live in Austin, Texas? It get’s hot.
Today, is going to be unseasonably lovely. We no longer have winters here in Texas. But we have three seasons of summer. Summer. HELL. And Late Summer. Today is paradise. I’m checking to see if I can get into tennis cardio at noon. 25 minutes away. I could just go, and crash the class. Or sit here… pause… listen to the music for a few minutes…
{big party.tahiti 80 streaming off the tv}
My body would love a tennis workout. My agenda needs me to focus on some other pressing tasks. Like finding more cash flow for my personal rocket ship. We will get back to rocket ships in a future chapter, I promise that. For now, I’m going to bid you a fair day, and get on with the other human, in my time and space, things I have to do. I hope you come back. I enjoyed our little commune.
I hope to show you how to do it too. It’s a matter of listening to expanded frequencies. Anyway, the day outside is calling.
{jigsaw falling into place, radiohead streaming off the tv}
*Flextime Donut – that’s a concept you’ll be hearing about. Coined by futurist, science fiction righter, and mathematician, Ruddy Rucker. Might even be the name of one of his books. I’ll need to put a book / reference page together for you.
**not a novel, a hyperfiction weaving of words
℘ image is from a lost visual notebook from jason, john’s son who loves drawing***
***a lie, it was ai
Stay tuned. Come back. OPEN YOUR MIND.
I am here.
You are here.
return to index | this is a chapter of a novel** in progress:
Listen to the Cloud Pilots explanation of this chapter here
