River Of Consciousness

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if a person in meditation gazed into a mirror rather than closing the eyes to look within. I know that mirrors are mundane physical objects -but if a mind sees it as a reflective surface it seems logical that it might create a mental response in the psyche of the meditator. Could those irises become portals… and could you find your way back out?

© Matthew Lee High
© Matthew Lee High

Life’s been a strange ride these last few years. I have been attempting to record it, from whatever perspectives I can, for nearly ten years now. Sporadically, I must admit, and with a really frustrating inability to find a steady current. So this, I suppose, is the introduction to yet another derivation from whatever path I was most recently on.

My blogs have changed over the years, but that’s the nice thing about the matrix I guess; they’re still waiting there to be remembered. I have imported just about all of my former journaling into this portal. Many of the posts are private… there is a fine line sometimes between telling the truth and oversharing. I truly feel like I’m coming out of the dark, or can be doing so if I continue in this stream of consciousness. So this post is a mile marker, so to speak, in my life as one who journals.

Stygian Ink is a reference to the permanence of written memories. The river Styx divides the cosmos -flowing between the living world and the dead, and is also singular it it’s importance to the Gods. It is only by the Stygian waters that an oath can be made between them. This ink (or digital pigment on your internet device’s display) does not run. It will not fade, and it should be regarded by those who wield it as a vehicle for truth. In the interest of truth I must also admit that Stygian, in literary terms, refers usually to something dark or unpleasant. Often in life I find that you really have to sink to the bottom of the well before you can push yourself back up toward the surface. My thoughts are not always pleasant, and I’m really tired of filtering my truths so heavily that my meaning gets lost.

I may talk about issues that make you uncomfortable, or you might disagree with me. That’s what comments are for.

I still have a coherent story to tell, but life’s just not letting it come to me right now… so this is all the parts in between. It just may turn out to be the heart of the matter. Only time will tell.

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