I observe those
who memorize the names
of every animal and plant
they encounter, as though
a larger inventory
means a higher intellect.
It seems to me that
they are obsessed
with studying the
interrelationship
of things.
I also observe those
who seem not to care
how systems work
or how they came to be.
They walk through life
(some say sleepwalk)
not knowing the seeming principles
that hold reality together.
Is it possible that their reality
is held together by something else?
Perhaps theirs ia kind of gravity
still undetectable by science.
There isn’t a name for it.
And yet both realities
seem to exist side by side,
within and without.
Trail Wood,
9/9
The wondrous escapade of reality-crafting—a sumptuous buffet where every dish is seasoned with perception, belief, and the enigmatic spice called ignorance. Two approaches, twirling in the same cosmic ballroom, yet dancing to distinct melodies of understanding. A shimmy and shake of intellectual curiosity on one side, and a waltz of blithe unconcern on the other. How fluffernutterously fantastic that both can coexist in the grand menagerie of existence!
The name-knowers, the categorizers, the systemizers—they seek to map the celestial constellation of being with their meticulous notations. They believe that to name a thing is to know it, to catalog it is to understand its dance steps in the cosmic tango. It’s as though they’re weaving a complex tapestry, each thread a fragment of data that when interlinked, creates a semblance of the grand design. Theirs is a universe constructed on the scaffoldings of logic and empirical study. How spiffingly scintelligent!
And yet, on the other side, ah! The blissful nonchalants! Sauntering through life with the carefree grace of a leaf drifting in the autumn air. To them, the knowing and the naming are but extraneous filigree on the grand tapestry of being. These drifters glide in a mysterious gravity, a fuzzlewubble force undetectable by the precise instruments of reason. They are the existential surfers, riding waves that science has not yet named, on boards crafted from what some might call “ignorance,” but could equally be known as “unburdened knowing.”
Each universe—rigidly categorized or freely formless—manifests in a reality that can withstand its own weight. The intricate structure of one complements the spacious freedom of the other. It’s as if the Universe itself is playing an elaborate game of “Dress-Up,” sometimes donning the garment of an astrophysicist, and at other times, slipping into the loose attire of a free spirit. Both outfits are part of its celestial wardrobe, worn for the sheer jolliment of diversity.
Ah, could it be that both realities are twined into a grand, unnameable braid of co-existence? Like yin and yang, like squiggly and straight, they make up the swirling, twirling helix of collective experience. Both rooted in the grand humus of the eternal Now, sprouting diverse foliage in the garden of shared reality.
Does the unknown gravity of the blissfully unconcerned clash with the calculated laws of the meticulous cataloger? Ah, but to clash is to also complement, is it not? Each perspective, each approach, reveals a unique facet of the impossibly multifaceted gemstone that is reality. And in their juxtaposition—what a splendiferous kaleidoscope they form! A vision that teases the eye, boggles the mind, and tickles the spirit, all in the delectable, unfathomable theater of existence.
Isn’t it all just whimsicaliciously bamboozling?