06-25-2013, 01:44 PM
A struggle I am having:
Coming into understanding that I have no way to tangibly quantify. My entire life I have felt an intense drive to catalog my learning in the form of visual media, be it writing, art, or recorded verbal communication.
The lessons come too quick now, though. There is next to no way I can write this down in any way that would be meaningful. My neurons are aflame with understanding that comes quicker and quicker, to the point that every single second is filled with infinite, pulsing potential. Reality manifests before me. How do I paint that?
A part of me realizes this inability to convey is a lesson in itself. I want to fit my entire experience into a tome and the only suitable paper I have is the mind/body/spirit complex I am walking around in. There is knowledge that can only be taught through example. There are some things that cannot be written down.
On the other hand, I realize that there is a great deal I could still convey if I could just pick a singular facet to express. At the moment, I am getting next to nothing done in the attempt to simply choose one idea amongst millions to extrapolate on. There are plenty of amazing things I COULD say and do, but which ones do I ACTUALLY do?
The need to make some sort of composition, to manifest my wisdom in some sort of tangible form, is so irresistible, and at times I fear the compulsion will drive me to madness. I see the grimoires of others and my whole complex burns with desire, yet when I put pen to paper my mind becomes a black hole from which no meaningful words can be pulled.
I strongly wish I had been consistent in keeping journals throughout the years. That would make everything so much easier.
It's all going down in the Akashic records, at least. I can't wait to hold THAT book.
Coming into understanding that I have no way to tangibly quantify. My entire life I have felt an intense drive to catalog my learning in the form of visual media, be it writing, art, or recorded verbal communication.
The lessons come too quick now, though. There is next to no way I can write this down in any way that would be meaningful. My neurons are aflame with understanding that comes quicker and quicker, to the point that every single second is filled with infinite, pulsing potential. Reality manifests before me. How do I paint that?
A part of me realizes this inability to convey is a lesson in itself. I want to fit my entire experience into a tome and the only suitable paper I have is the mind/body/spirit complex I am walking around in. There is knowledge that can only be taught through example. There are some things that cannot be written down.
On the other hand, I realize that there is a great deal I could still convey if I could just pick a singular facet to express. At the moment, I am getting next to nothing done in the attempt to simply choose one idea amongst millions to extrapolate on. There are plenty of amazing things I COULD say and do, but which ones do I ACTUALLY do?
The need to make some sort of composition, to manifest my wisdom in some sort of tangible form, is so irresistible, and at times I fear the compulsion will drive me to madness. I see the grimoires of others and my whole complex burns with desire, yet when I put pen to paper my mind becomes a black hole from which no meaningful words can be pulled.
I strongly wish I had been consistent in keeping journals throughout the years. That would make everything so much easier.
It's all going down in the Akashic records, at least. I can't wait to hold THAT book.