(The time on the clock must be wrong. The coffee pot's not over the yardarm yet.)
A lot of the problem is an enthusiasm for thinking of the context mind, or unconscious, as a superior that forgets nothing and always knows the right answer. If only, we think, we could break down the barriers so that I could contact my subconcious at any time, seamless, whole with myself. No more feeling like a hapless monkey marionette, strings between two masters, the outside world and the inside mind. Well hang on now. Give me that monkey a moment. Why this obligatory guilty viewpoint? This presumption that the focal, or conscious, mind is in the way of harmony tween the flux, and at best is a leftover from a more primitive mind? How about we approach it from a creative viewpoint that it may be a highly developed interface. The beach zone between island and ocean, evolved over millennia. Sounds rather more valuable than a puppet. Let's play on this beach a while.
This site is strictly personal. I give no guarantee to the accuracy of my facts or my fictions.
© 2001 Owen Briggs
last modified on 11mar01