Almost too faint, too evanescent, to write about –
You know how it is, when you go through a day, or more, on what seems a different pattern:
today was busy, one thing after another. Up early for the delivery man to pick up my passport renewal, rapidly reworking lists of compositions for an article I will write this summer, organizing our usual Thursday presentation to the medical students, looking through new books in my office, rehearsal for concert in two weeks; and two quick Skype calls, to Chicago and Zürich, to structure plans for things I need to do this summer. While incidentally managing to reach people I'd despaired of ever reaching.
Somehow, I simply seemed to be present for things: after several days of dull work avoidance, abruptly just walking right through work, projects, ideas, plans –
and aside from such a day, such fluid processes, such a sense of easy achievements simply happening, there is also a peculiar, faint dislocation: as though the universe has shifted half an inch to the left on its foundations, as though the laws of physics have been slightly, but permanently, altered. E now equals M times C, to the 2.03rd power.
This is something that happens to all of us from time to time – a sense of simply walking through things, as though one has somehow, without fanfare, been awarded mastery of the Tao (or perhaps, more accurately, one is suddently walking in line with the Tao). Like the point where someone learns a martial art, and it becomes so fluid they can do it without work, in a graceful dance that does not pause.
I suspect it has something to do with analysis, with complexes shifting or disintegrating, with some of the things my mind flings up against various tasks suddenly disintegrating, as a result of some unexpected change just behind consciousness –
It is this that makes Buddhists. It is this that makes Taoists.
It may be, also, that it is this, that makes one think: one's analysis is working....
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