Shoes Of Another

Sometimes, just to feel confident, to get the full meal deal in life, we have to wear the shoes of others. Appreciation, my good person, then move on. So I meander, gawking, and sometimes with sore feet.

As a conscious trapped within the walls of matter, I’ve learned the two best tactics for advancing my existence have been ‘intake of stimuli’ and ‘output of action’. My personal manifesto has been to live life as a donut—a torus—grooving inside and out. This philosophy is reflected in my actions as a writer: I want to consider and explore every walk of life, every perspective. Each tone in a conversation, or bias, every characteristic that differentiates one form of life from another becomes a new palette color. Absorption is key.

The mere fact of living becomes an opportunity for observation and understanding. Hmmm, poke, aha! Study of writing gives me the tools and the framework for expressing what I have observed—language is the vehicle for my emission—so the mechanics of getting an idea running sweet and on the road are crucial. We share the thought highway with billions of coherent and obscure blips from billions of other spewers. In my study of writing, I must, without filter or deception, scrutinize and consider all reasonable stimuli. Then I get to jangle meaning and nuance within the comfort of my mind. Even ego gets a say. Those moments of slack jaw gawking and full-on sponging the moment were utterly valuable.

Still the seconds of this dominion, we cannot. With each one of you graciously sharing this experience, all is precious. Here, we have found ourselves together in life until we drift on. With the turn of a leaf, golden destiny becomes a passage, falling, tumbling and crumpled in front of our step.

In each way we wander, we find reflections of ourselves. Along the pathways I travel, want fades, desire erodes and only the bedrock of tireless, sun and moon relationships excite me. Others speak of this phenomena to rid material baggage as well. I’m not alone in a slow replacement of priorities. We have found ourselves here–in this place, a snippet of instant, plunked in a spherical now. How magic is that? A stone was cast in the pond for each and everyone of us. And in all the gin joints, in all the universes, through all the gnashing and colliding of geological plates clamoring with life sprouting in vertebrae, gills, jawbones, femurs, and phalanges—we find ourselves, connected to a ribbon of life that has unfurled for a billion years or more. You and me just happened to plunk into the pond at the same time. Wow! Glad to meet you. Size ten?

 

“And death shall have no dominion.” Dylan Thomas, video.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” Humphrey Bogart as Rick, Casablanca, 1942, Julius J. Epstein and Philip G. Epstein (screenplay).

Shoes of Another © 2011 Gaboo. Read more of Gaboo’s observations, click his tag.

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