Episodes In, Out of But Never Outside of the Smoke-Filled Coffee Shop: More About the Abyss

Many afternoons I sat with that Old Man in the Smoke-Filled Coffee Shop talking about the sea. We would stare at the sea, sip libations and occasionally speak. He told me about fishing and about his "lost generation". One time I asked him, "So, why did you keep going out there every day? How did you face something--the sea--so vast, so incomprehensible and so threatening? How did you grow to love it so dearly? How did you balance fear with enjoyment, anxiety with the presence to smile?" He took a long time to answer, but then he told me: "You know what's funny. When I was young I never asked that, I didn't care. I got up and went out to that damn sea every day. I woke up energized, ready to conquer, to swim, to catch. I woke up ready to give it my best. Then, yes, I began to wonder. I began to see a horizon that never moved. I began to understand myself as trapped under that horizon--held there--and no matter where or how or what I did, there was no escaping. The horizon was my prison. In that prison everything melted into the same--all of it could fit into the same frame. Good food, good boos, good company--it all felt, tasted and looked the same. Because, I knew the next day that horizon would remain and no matter how far I went or how deep I plundered, there was no way out.

"So how did you keep going all those years? Sheer determination? Duty as a man? What?"

He said, "The secret is not duty, not its not guilt, or even any lofty goals of grandeur. Pretty soon son, I'll be dead and so will you. The universe will go on without a hitch--it didn't care before and it won't care then. You and I will dissolve back into the dust we came from and that will be that. All the dreams, all the trying, the accumulating, the success--every fish I caught--will melt into the sea of cosmic indifference. You know how you keep going? You don't move the horizon, no, you find something in this Same which gives you a hint or an idea or a glimmer--a portal--into the Abyss. You see, once you find something within the horizon that can't be held by the horizon--well, nothing else matters. Its funny, you could meet a girl in the bar tonight--see in her face, in her eyes, in her smile--something that can't be reduced to patterns, or molecules, or informational codes. You'll see right through the horizon into the Abyss of transcendence and it will make those days not unquestioned, but more than bearable and even exciting. You'll remain under the horizon's gaze for sure, but there will be something in the world that can't be contained by it, something that goes on forever."

I miss that Old Man, but he sure talked alot of bullshit.

I met a girl at the bar that day. She was strange. She strolled in simultaneously trying to keep everyone in their at bay, all the while interested in their affairs. She was distant and engaged. But here engagement was motivated sheerly out of boredom and lack of self-confidence. She needed to be engaged in order to continue to tell herself she was doing everything for a reason, or at least to tell herself she was a good person. We talked for a bit. She was obviously intrigued by my aloof expression, stack of texts and obnoxious shirt. She did most of the talking, and my occasional interruptions only seemed to spur her on more. She told me about herself. Which was by all accounts astounding. She told me about two things: being noticed, being wanted, being somebody--being glamorous; and, caring, helping and contributing. It was funny to me that someone who cared so much for them-self was trying so hard to convince me (and herself) how much she cared for others. I told her that if she had to think about either one, she should probably quit one and focus on the other. She wasn't all that bright and asked me what that meant. I told her that if you have to think about caring about people--if you have to try to care--then their is no sense in trying to convince me, them or yourself that you really do. Only the ones that care without breathing--without reflection--without a moment--only those understand how to care for others. Otherwise, you are just normal and that is that.

She didn't like my little piece of wisdom so she left. I sipped espresso and thought about sunlight. I sipped espresso until the evening came and then took a walk.

In a swirl of nostalgia and fear, coming back "home" to construct a new one, I reach, grasp and long for that old Winter feel of homelessness, knowing transience is always temporary and always even more permanent; comfortable nowhere, rooted in many places, I sit cross-legged as always, observing the million reasons to stop believing beyond anything that cannot fit within a frame of information, yet always at depth unwilling to look you in the eye and not try. Sitting at the bar of a smoke-filled coffee shop, one eye on the Abyss, one eye on meaninglessness, I sip espresso slowly and intentionally knowing that if I slip it slow enough it will last most of the day and I won't have to figure out what to do with that enigma we call sunlight.

Swimming

I went swimming today, it was scary and exciting. No matter how warm the water is, whenever you wade in there and duck your head underneath the surface for the first time--the cold and shock of immersion always strikes your body. For a second it is scary and then it turns to excitement. Water is always foreign and never to be disrespected. But, it is tied intricately to life and always to be enjoyed and revered. So, for me swimming is scary and exciting.

When

When night comes quicker than usual, it is strange, even sudden. When dawn comes quicker than expected it is miraculous, even apocalyptic.

Apparently

Apparently, this blog has been somewhat dreary lately. So, I decided to write on things we all find are happy. Here goes:

Butterflies--cotton candy--the color pink--ice cream--summer--water balloon fights--weddings--flowers--love--kindness--food--holiday--dogs--a nice cup of tea--snowball fights--your grandmother--old photos--riding horses--sunsets--sunrises--the ocean--the mountains--giraffes-bunnies--birthdays--
Christmas--Jesus.

Wasn't this fun? Please tell your friends.

Hello

Hello, if you read things here and then think to write me to tell me what they mean or ask how "I" am "doing" please don't read things here. Thanks.

Wishes

I am so tired of them.

Whatever

I met an Old Man once, one at the end of his life. He told me, "The pain doesn't stop. You can expect it not to--truly believe that it has ceased for a period of time--forget its sting--but it doesn't. Why? Because the end is death. You can't anticipate it. You can't understand it. But, most of all you can't experience it. The thing that means your possibility for having possibilities can't be experienced by you. Your end won't be in completion or telos, but in lack, lack, lack, suddenly, nihil." I told him he wasn't telling me anything original or anything I didn't know. Then he asked, "Sure, but does that stop the pain from stopping?" I said, "No" and that was that.