Indigestion

For the past couple of weeks I've been feeding my head ... not Gracie-Slick style, rather more traditionally. I've been doing a lot of reading, having lots and lots of words pass by my eyes. I'm starting to wonder what I got out of it. Everything's a little cloudy right now. My head feels like my stomach after too big a meal. Why is that?

Maybe it's because I've been stream-reading, you know: read one thing; stumble over a reference so you go off and read that; it reminds you of something else, so you pick that up and read some of it ... sort of like following definitions through the dictionary, but with big clumps of words instead of single entries. For example, start with Young's Geometry of Meaning, and his fourfoldness gets you to Schumacher's Guide for the Perplexed. Both texts are short, to be sure, but dense ... very dense. Of course, Young also mentions The Cloud of Unknowing and Casteneda, and you find your nose in The Teachings of Don Juan again after 30+ years. But this is all after-hours stuff. My day job has me dealing with an elearning project that prompted me to do a little research to begin with, which is what got me to Young, then ... well, you know where I'm going with this.

What all of these particular texts have in common is that they describe something that most of us would rather not think about, but something that is there just the same. It's hard to put a label on it, and I'm fully aware that labels tend to unnecessarily reduce things anyway. So, for the sake of argument, let's just call it more. Yes, they all describe something 'more'. Young and Schumacher are convincing, that's the simplest way to put it ... very convincing, I might add. The anonymous author of The Cloud is, well, devoted and clearheaded, to say the least; Castenda is passionate. In a word, though they might not agree on the details, they are speaking with one voice at least in principle.

So what's my problem? It's acutally simple enough: who cares? In the hustle and bustle of corporate business, no one gives two hoots about 'more', unless it's money we're talking about. In the challenging world of academe, this 'more' is just not scientific enough, I mean, where's the proof? In the mundanity of everyday life, there are cars to fix and lawns to mow and bills to pay, and sabbaths become unavoidably shopping days ... hey, when else are you doing to do it?

I suppose what's really bothering me is the fact that without the 'more' we just keep getting less and less. No matter how much information we process, how much money we make, how many things we buy, we just end up with less in the end, because there's no 'more' in the more that we think we have. It seems so obvious that the 'more' I'm referring to is there, but not only does it get so little attention, there are many folks out there who will argue with you - vehemently - that it's not even there at all. There are none so blind as they who will not see.

All right, it's time for a digestive. A metaphysical one, of course, and just a small one ... less is more.