Puzzle 63: One and one make two - From New Scientist #1114, 3rd August 1978 [link] “Never tell them more than you need”, as Professor Knowall has so often said. “And pay them the compliment...
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
MMM: When I get really quiet I wonder...
Thank you Melba for selecting one of my suggestions for a theme for this week's MMM. I wouldn't have suggested it if I'd known how hard I'd find it to do!
I wonder why we all make so much noise?
Why do I?
Is it to stop myself from hearing the small voice inside that wants me to be happy?
To make a change now from busy to happy?
To alter how I see reality now?
To stop me from hearing that little voice encouraging me to be myself?
When I get really quiet I wonder why I don't do it more often.
Why I don't let myself hear my own song singing. Why do I blot it out? What am I so scared of? Is it fear that stops me? Is there some mass hallucination to avoid hearing ourselves? Is it an old program that we are all running? Something that we forget to switch off?
Okay so I stop. And listen. What do I hear?
I feel the joy of love rushing in to fill the empty space - was I really making noise to keep the love out?
I notice where my legs are being hurt by this chair - why don't I get more comfortable? Am I punishing myself for something? Or simply choosing to keep going and make a virtue out of it?
I feel my lips smiling, I feel and accept myself as I am.
Ah so that's what is so frightening!
I'm no longer making an effort and I am being content. I am happy to just be here. To be me as I am.
I hear all those voices from childhood telling me to stop doing whatever it is - now! And of course that means stop being happy.... or so part of me thought... Teachers in particular seem to have had difficulty coping with a happy me... I was a fidget and I had to learn to keep still... I was a chatterer and I had to learn to shut up and listen... I was an explorer and I had to learn to stick to the teacher's agenda... I was a toucher and I had to learn not to...
I learnt more than my lessons at school. I learnt a way of doing that didn't include being me.
(I am not blaming my teachers - they work in a system where this is inevitable for at least some of their pupils.)
Is being happy a sin? The search for happiness is one thing but being happy is another...
And in this space I wonder whether the search for happiness is the problem. Searching is doing. Happiness is being.
Is it possible to be doing and being at the same time?
And I realise that the search for happiness provides so many ways for others to manipulate me; I may find myself buying books, cars, houses, whole lifestyles in the pursuit of happiness... yet being happy is none of those things. It is being quiet within myself in this moment...
Happiness is wordless; the search for happiness is full of them.
To bring the words back from the space of happiness is tricky. The song is wordless.
Rather than create a picture of happiness I did one of the noise that I was in before.
Yesterday we found that one of our pound coins had 3 legs on it. It was a Manx coin from the Isle of Man.
Looking at the image I've created those three legs have crept in.
Its not that I think money is the root of all evil but I think its pursuit drives us to forget ourselves. I wish I had stopped working in a place that eventually I only escaped through illness... and I did suspect that I needed to leave but I kept on keeping on...
One of the keys from my other MMMs is here too. And a form of maze or labyrinth. I wonder whether the labyrinth is some sort of reference to the maze of cubicles I used to work within... though they were much greyer!
I'm not, as yet, aware of any other influences.
What do you see here?
For other people's see Mixed Media Memoirs