What the Hell Do I Know….
“The truth is lived, not taught.”—Herman Hesse

It is as if we are in the wild, wild quest, a search for meaning Viktor Frankl; a fight between you and the universe, Kafka; the lessons of the river, Hesse; a way to subdivide and analyze the entire world Aristotle; a dance between power lines and timelines and concepts, dreams and dark matter, dark energy…and the final piece the puzzle: God particles?

But what do I really know?  I know that information-wise, I don’t know much.  I know that spiritual-wise I do know some paramount things.  I know that God hides in your blind spots.  I know that Castaneda was a storyteller and that peyote can get you to the mountaintops.  But you still have to come down.

What do you know?  Do you know that you are creating everything, that you get to take complete responsibility for everything but the dawn, the sunrise and sunset, the beauty that is overlooked?

 Do you know who Spinoza was, or that drunken Taoist priests were about as close to the answers as astrophysicists? Do you know that black holes, right now (as we speak) are eating up the leftovers of the ancient universe?

What the hell I really do know is that there are powerful people eating calamari in the St. Julian Hotel in Boulder, Colorado on Friday night discussing the strange advantages of being an entrepreneur, near a side restaurant where I was sitting next to the fireplace, under the fantastic chandeliers, as the wait staff glorified us and in walked Tom Robbins with Tony Robins who ate my lunch.

I know that blither and balderdash and non sequitur details are littering the techno-babble that is filtering out the light from stars…billions of years old that do not even exist anymore.  

I know that there are things that are faster than the speed of light, like thought, that confusion is the first step to clarity, that there are sages and sagas and minstrels and Minotaur’s singing The Yellow Rose of Texas in a secret cowboy gay bar in Lubbock.  Hey, I was once there, cowboys dancing with cowboys, about as eerie as St. Elmo’s fire on the masts of pirate ships.

Ok, what do you know?  How intense are you on learning this stuff?  The finer points, the miraculous discoveries, the micro reflecting the macro, where sailors dream and lighthouses beam and the world is our oyster caught between…the many world theories.

Look for meaning, read the masters: Emerson, Carnegie, Lao Tzu, Sagan, Socrates, Aquinas, Thoreau, Jim Rohn, Earl Nightingale, Dylan…“Fight fight against the dying of the light.” Unravel the mystery until it beams you up, until the cows come home, until your mind is spinning with new ideas and new concepts and elation spun all the way through, like a chocolate éclair, a bald streetlight, a black hole with no hair, a solid truth that captures you somewhere between Atlantis and their neighbor, a third world, barbed-wire, fenced-in, chains on the doors, Nassau.

What do I know?  I know that I don’t know. I know that symmetry and scimitars are words falling into the looking glass, that Alice was Jonathan, and he was watched ever so closely by the King which forced him to write in secret and satire so that they would not be off with his head.

What do you know?  Do you know your place in the vastness, that there are like-minded beings across the street sipping espresso, that cryogenics and saving ten pence, or two bits…are all part of the plan?

I know that every moment of every day of this illusory life, is filled with these damned new God particles, and they get on your carpet and into your soul and the best you can do is watch the next sunset, dream a bigger dream, step out of the shadows of who you think you are, what you have let yourself be today, so as to get into the bright light of bewilderment, of jabberwockies and storytellers and plastic surgeons and coconut flashlights and Himalayans and yaks along the Everest trail watching your every step as you get out of your Twin Otter in the scary, scary Lukla Airport.   Google it man, pretty treacherous.

I know that you know and that we know something, like maybe a droplet from the sea, a thimbleful of the ocean, a peek at eternity, a discussion group in a local coffee shop trying so desperately to figure the difference between quantum mechanics and quantum physics, the origins of the universe, the smallest particle, the largest celestial objects, all woven into a mind that is willing to play all the way to the grave.

Ok, I just can’t end it this way:  Play all the way into the sunlight.

But, like I said, what the hell do I know anyway….