I act. I see and hear. And I ask, what is the world like, and how should I behave?
Sometimes I feel on top of things. As if I were a bull rider. In this configuration, my attention is drawn to staying on top of things. Or finding more things to be on top of.
Call it preference, but this is a demotivating understanding of the world and my role in it. What I’m above is distinctly less interesting to me than what I’m below.
And, while the phrase, what is the world like, and how should I behave isn’t bad, my mind prefers directing its questions outward. Isn’t that where practically everything is? If I round down, I understand zero percent of it. So I ask, God, what is my aim?
There is no answer, naturally. What if there were? I wonder. I talked recently with a man who said God spoke to him. I did not find his company salutary.
But impressions are produced, nonetheless, and words and images. Strange rushes of energy spread down my left humerus. I act. I see and hear.