Some people live theoretical lives in a theoretical world. What they know about and what they talk about is what they have read in books, spiritual books, self improvement books, books on general psychology. They have piles of books. They are like cooks that never cook anything but read a lot of cook books.
Some people are pretenders. To talk to them it is like talking to actors in a play. He or she can be so nice and friendly, a wonderful person with wonderful ideas. After some years the original person has faded away and the “actor” has becomes his role figure. Such people can be very helpful. They can advise you how to live your life, what you ought to do and so on. They know it all. They are next to perfect. But they are not real. They are but imagined role figures in a play.
Some people have sold their soul to the devil, many, many years ago, but that is of course something you can’t prove. In fact, they are not even aware of it. Maybe they have forgotten about it. If you bring up the subject they will laugh at you and ask what the hell you are talking about.
Very important persons, like politicians and big business executives, are like poker players. They don’t want to give the game away. They have poker faces. And the higher the stakes are the more important is the tiny little details. Everything has to be in perfect order, the hands, the hair cut, the warm smile, the tone in their voice.
Some regular folks are like politicians. They can drive me crazy. Of course I shouldn’t feel like that, but I do.
Human beings are pack animals, like wolves or chimpanzees. Everyone is following the head ape. A mean and evil head ape can easily lead his pack all the way to hell if he wants to. The pack is just happy that someone takes the lead.
If you happen to read something that irritates you or, let’s say, make you laugh a little, would you agree to that the immaterial world has affected the material world?
Isn’t it interesting that letters has the power to change the levels of certain hormones and other chemicals in your blood circulation? Isn't this a kind of magic?
Many people have to pretend that they are someone that they are not in order to get a job or to find some buddies or maybe a girlfriend. Maybe nothing is wrong with pretending. Where would you be now if you never had put on a show?
Is there really a true self and a false ego? What if there is nobody behind the masks? Maybe there is no actor that is acting the roll figure.
Sometimes I lie and I know very well that I am lying. I pretend, for example, that I did not steal that book. I look completely innocent. I can also act a little bit upset about that someone dares to suspect me. It looks good, don’t you think?
This is from the New Earth book, page 55. Jean Paul Sartre is commenting Descartes and Eckhart is commenting Sartre.
“He looked at Descartes statement `I think, therefore I am´ very deeply and suddenly realized in his own words, `The consciousness that says I am is not the consciousness that thinks´. What did he mean by that? When you are aware that you are thinking that awareness is not part of thinking. It is a different dimension of consciousness. And it is that awareness that says I am. If there were nothing but thought in you, you wouldn’t even know you are thinking…”
I can’t see why the awareness that says “I am” can’t be just another thought? I think that the mind can look at itself. One part of the brain is watching another part. When you fall asleep at night both the I am thought and all the other thoughts disappears, like crows.
I believe that when I die no feelings of any I will live on. The sense of I needs a living brain. I believe that this is it. There is nothing more to it.
It is suddenly winter here. Last night we had minus 10 degrees C. (13,5 F). We have had the warmest winter in history. Now we haven’t have this cold in the end of march since 1902.
I am sitting here at the computer. It is snowing outside. A middle aged man without a clue. In thirty years from now he will definitely be dead and gone.
But there are things that is important to know, though. First of all, thoughts are never anything but thoughts. What I write here is thoughts. Thoughts are never the reality. The map is never the land it is depicting. Some people collects bugs and beetles, others jot down thoughts in notebooks. But the beetles are real. Deep green or metallic blue with wonderful antennas. But how do you draw a map over a mental landscape?