Between Remembering and Releasing
If you find my writing inaccessible for any reason, please go here, rest in ease, and enjoy an auto's translation.
Between Remembering and Releasing
I notice people living in diffuse worlds of information, finding their way to a world through avoidance of community with more focus on survival. What apocalypse is survival serving you?
I am seeing community attention wells. Transitional technology paradigms locally networked that aim to bring conversation home to the people who live as neighbors, to the people for whom the light about us asks we receive.
I see communities recover from whatever impasse institutions placed between their local conversations like dams to generate demands for global intermediaries, and engaging with technology becomes no longer positioned as (what RFC 2119 might call "MUST") imposed but a sweetness.
A way to pray in little details to whatever local stimuli happens by. And, in that way at least, language is let free. Free enough to share in the world in place of the extractive essentiality organs of care have been left to tend to love and endure.
I recognize there may yet have been a better way to word this wish. I understand the good hands they are placed in. How forgiving they become every day. I post here in effort to erode away a bit more of the sediment around the channels love has available to flow through me into the world. The gleciers of big data are melting. Let's go exploring. Let's find own way to return to how it felt to pass through something as to the letter I have grow to be for love.
Where does attention pool when it recognizes itself as watershed? What if the technology of presence was simply this: showing up as the landscape that could hold whatever needed to be held. How recovery might just be recognition finding return in the technology of simply being here. How imagining technology that asks nothing of us but to be more fully ourselves might be where language learns to be free enough to share in the world to see us to be the sediment around the channels love has to flow through us.
And the light about us asks we receive.
I watch those that slingshot around attention wells amass gestures of well-being in circuits that lid the very posiibility of wellness. I am left to ask what might my relationship to technology be? What am I to community attention becoming prayer becoming parenting attention this moment? How the blue sits to the left and the red to the right on this roll of paper towels behind the slats of trees in golden morning light giving me its small miracle of whatever chromato aberration or other process has name for.
The birds laughter in distance by some other miracle (if not the same one) singing songs I can only recognize as living sheet music. How I recognize the sequestering of industry there. Something I invited in plave of any consumption. How humanity is just the world around it in a cultural physics, compressed into a strata of becoming upon which the understandings about us dwell.
How I am terrified I may only hear back that I "am doing it" I am "tending to sweetness" I am the photosynthetic process giving life to your world this moment. How perhaps, if I could recognize this, other words would have held desire of me, and yet I am left you to teach me patience.
To teach me the blue bleeding into red through paper fiber, light is color being patient with itself. To teach me the birds become living sheet music leave me to become the instrument through which morning plays its small persistent song. To teach me watching those that slingshot around the wells, they never quite allowing themselves to settle into the depth, do they? Their mass must be so small for such velocity, can't even land a punch.
To teach me the cultural physics of how humanity is just the world around it, compressed into a strata of becoming, terrified of recognition, terrified of the words that might hold desire of me. How attention itself becomes the technology of being present to what is present, a small miracle for whatever process has name of the way meaning emerges between private spaces.