Get Surreal
Written on almost December 31st, 2012
Have you ever thought that what you see, what you perceive, is but an adjunct to normal, a footnote to the ordinary? When, if you bend a little, dream-build bigger castles in the air, put a moment’s notice to something fantastic, surreal, phantasmagorical, to the mundane, to what you take for granted as true and sublime, then you will begin to see the amazing bewilderment, the fine lines that govern a world that is just out of reach—much like the Sangre de Cristo realties that are known as blood-red mountains in southern Colorado.
What if today you began to see your fractured realities, your accepted truths, your run-of-the-mill beauty, and took it up a notch, gathered your inner wisdom, the farfetched beliefs, the insights and epiphanies and surreality of contemplation and wonder, then extruded it through your gracious senses, and saw, really saw, witnessed, became, realized the higher order of mystery that lives under rainbows, within a silence, above the rabble, and inside your night dreams that clean out the mind of its human problems so you can live full bore away from yesterday.
There is such a magnificent bewilderment going on, a staff of truth that is slammed to ground, where the buffalos still roam, where the ideas of parsecs and infinite intelligence and cosmic consciousness and eternal life, wisdom gathering, a place that is right now, hiding behind TV and video games, a place that supersedes your day-to-day acceptations, perceptions, where you can stand on the edge of a waterfall and gasp in the awe, bask in its supreme beauty, where the real becomes so real, you call it surreal…it becomes divine and enlightening, where enchantment and fairies in the trees, poets and minstrels, muses and magicians and wizards all dance hand-in-hand atop meadows of wild flowers, where humming birds freeze in mid air, stationary beautification of you letting in more light, letting your eyes see, letting your heart, soul and infinite spirit soar once again, capturing the child within, who loves to play, who let’s their mind alone so it can sing and dance again…smiling all the way down to the river.
Surreal-ity should be your mantra, your lost dream stuck under the bed with the monsters, the raining down of moonlight on a normal Tuesday evening as you gaze from your second story bedroom windowsill…where the dogs live, the skies protect the mystery (actually encourage it).
And you take your accepted truths, your ordinary awareness, your limited consciousness, your fast and furious glossing over of reality as you know it, this surreality that can extend from the very tip of your mind to the headwaters of the Amazon, to the crystal clear seas of Tahiti, to the Mt. Everest trail where you can peek at the Milky River, to the Ganges, to the Rocky Mountains majesties where the wild, white goats walk straight up rock cliffs on your way to the very top of Quandary—a perfect fourteen’r, right outside of Breckenridge where the oldest tavern west of the Mississippi holds a liquor license from 1879…and the only way to get there is along the old wooden sidewalks…past the memory of a gunslinger, Doc. Holiday, who shot down a man right there in the afternoon on main street.
Stretch, stretch way out, what you think you can perceive, as this is the very eve of the New Year. And wouldn’t this be a fantastic resolution to have? “To perceive more,” like seeing 50 sunsets this year, like living so far above the waterline you can walk upon the water, the sands of time, that which really is the surreal and sublime…that is missed by most…rushing by the roses, the sky hawks, the cloud shadows and the marmots chattering above tree line….
Believe in the surreality of what you have yet experienced, perceived…for you can discover it within as you see it all…without.
It is all there for the mind that is really to ready per…see…eve.