*(a letter written for my parents who were overseas in Canada when I was six)
Strengthening an observer of a streaming consciousness requires a conscious decision to do so. Raising consciousness or self-awareness is a paradox – unconsciousness upgrading itself into consciousness. Thoughts continuously flow but catching them and their intent depends on being in a state of silent awareness, the in-between of unconsciousness into consciousness.
I need a shower, an important ritual. Chores await me but here I am writing. Am I being pointless by putting off the shower and chores with writing?
No – It is a calculated delay. It is a choice in prioritizing. The writing is an effect of a cause, a consequence of a trigger’s input.
It always is. A trigger produces a decision that was influenced by the trigger’s structure. The decision then unfolds into an ensuing consequential trigger activating a decision.
Cause and effect… what came first, the decision or the effect? The same question as what came first, the chicken or the egg.
The lightning moment of reflection in-between cause and effect that produces a decision and then births another effect – is a part of life’s process of whose significance increases daily for me.
Micro decisions are the structure of an unfolding life. Second by second, micro decisions create a life. Am I dependent on reflection to better the unfoldment of my life? Definitely. Am I reflective enough? Never.
The length of the reflection moment determines the odds that a micro decision will be more informed, which in turn, enhances the unfoldment of my life. The urgency to decide invariably backfires.
If paralysis of analysis comes to mind, reflection incorporates more than analyzing. It is from within the silence whence wisdom rises.
These calls to write and share my thoughts appear riding on the back of a question, why do I receive this call? Are my thoughts worthy of sharing? If I write and then file it in the closet, then why not just think and not write?
Where does this need come from and what is its purpose? A small child’s pride writes letters to parents who, in migrating across an ocean, are available only through the writing and mailing of those letters. As was once suggested to me.
No. That my six-year-old-self was comforted by writing was not the purpose of her writing but rather it was an outlet that would be inspired no matter her environment or circumstance. *(see posted image) She would have been inspired to write and share in happiness too.
The need was hardwired but inspired by a subjective environmental situation. The outlet is pure and so the analysis is irrelevant.
The essential question is why I question and doubt my writing urge. Does my doubt stem from others’ disinterest in my thoughts? Do I need an audience to give my writing purpose? Do I work to make my writing entertaining to capture other’s attention?
What is important here? Do I need to ensure the worthiness of my thoughts and observations with other people’s validation? What is this?
Ha, the tip of a serpent’s tail flicking an invitation to be caught…
Perhaps the more crucial action is the observation of my thoughts’ emergence and freeing them to sun themselves in the light of consciousness – my consciousness looking back at itself.
If others do not reflect like me or need to write like me or even care to read what I write, why does this hinder my execution of writing?
I can write whatever. No one needs to read it or judge it worthy. It is worthy because I am developing the skill of catching my thoughts. I am raising my consciousness, I am increasing self-awareness. This is not only a benefit to my life but affects each relationship that engages me.
That is it, that is all. Shower time.