View Full Version : Highway 94, Exit 29: Chrisitianity - Search for Meaning/God

03-11-14, 11:29 PM
[Philosophical contemplations, I promise]

“A broken vase cannot be whole,
Fill it with water, see what occurs.
Every tiny fragment you thought was glued
Disappoints the flower, a somber mood.”

I originally began writing this as a self-analysis for unknown, possibly selfish reasons. My road is bumpy, curvy and filled with potholes, nevertheless, the 2011 Taurus carries on. The tank’s three quarters full, but often appears on “E”, nevertheless, the car carries on. My search for a map, a destination, resides in an underwater cavern in the bottom of Loch Ness—meanwhile my snorkel bobs up and down in the murky water. Reassurance is not my goal, motivation and a hoop to shoot for is.

Take away the rims on a professional basketball court and watch the confusion. Take away the end zones and goal posts in a football game, and watch the ball lose value. This is where I hoped religion would come in, reassuring me there was a path in the mighty jungle. A creature, a best friend, an honest yet shy onlooker, smiling on your fortunes, frowning on your follies—is this too much to ask for?

The complexity and arrangements of Gods is a dark cave, not easily understood. From the mighty oak and the crouching leopard to the bearded old man in the sky, the answer varied. Religion is like an exit on a highway. Most followers are born on the off-ramp marking their path with the most obvious and relevant choice. For others, some keep driving and pull over at the next exit, now satisfied with their new selection—their own free will. I often pull over, thoughtfully admiring and evaluating the signs, examining what the exit holds but usually, my appetite isn’t feeling McDonald’s or Burger King. I get back in the car and keep on driving.

I feel as though I have driven passed every exit, every chance for a meaningful life, hundreds of times. Some exits are appealing but they often leave half of my satisfaction in the car telling me no. The God of everything, my ideal God just doesn’t fit in with the rest of the puzzle. The eyes of the old man on the cloud are not felt, leaving the tank half empty, leaving me alone.

Is there any curiosity in that aloneness? Or is it just the feeling of a wide-eyed explorer? I mean surely we are all truly alone. Born alone at a uniquely specific time as you die alone at a uniquely specific time. Even our friends and family can’t occupy our minds all day, every night. The only consciousness we know, the only one we have proof exists, is between our own ears. The rest is an empathetic fabrication used to hide our true aloneness, our true perspective.

But even if we are alone and there is no referee watching the basketball game, does that make Life meaningless? If even one player suspected the “lack of” a referee, he would instinctively bend and break every rule until he scored the most baskets. Without a referee, the football game turns into an all-out war, full violence and subtle gratification. The scorer looks past the bench a bit further, and realizes the stadium is empty, the camera lens is capped. He looks at the other players wondering “What are we really doing?”. Why shouldn’t the now conscious player, strip off his uniform and march curiously, yet skeptically, out of the stadium?

“Fullback’s out of the game, alright Smith, we’re calling you up” Someone or something is always there to fill in the blanks, rationalize the past. Now how long will it be until this Back realizes what the player before him did? If he’s fortunate, he’ll appreciate the position, only questioning whether or not he’s getting the ball this play.

Maybe there is a secret there—minimize the time between plays, leave little room for off-topic conversations or strategies. Is this the reason why people “choose” to work nine to five jobs, come home from the bar, only to pass out and do it over again the next day? The overdriven and distracted businessman holds no ground outside the office, outside the bar. He’s reinstated into a new world where Mr. Cofax, the CEO, is his God. His prayers revolve around an increase of salary, a seat next to the cute blonde. His Ten Commandments are the weekly meetings with Mr. Cofax. His reality has no time for a second one.

Here I am unemployed and with all the time in the world. Mr. Cofax is no longer my God and my commandments are the hits on the Netflix Instant Queue. Each day spent out of an office reality, outside of work, I see more clearly, I feel more pain. My car needs an oil change, 10,000 miles is well overdue. Yet the highway’s no longer relevant, it turned into a dirt road hours ago. “No Vacancy” signs and working gas stations are seldom. At this point, I’ll take any exit, I’m craving McDonald’s—but at what cost?

03-16-14, 12:13 PM
Well I am nice and confused here

Are you seeking the christian God or escaping the idol of consumerism?

03-16-14, 12:48 PM
Well I am nice and confused here

Are you seeking the christian God or escaping the idol of consumerism?

He is seeking freedom. He is seeking liberation. His search extends beyond the need to give a name or a label to it. Once all the names end, there is the field we seek.

03-16-14, 12:55 PM
His search extends beyond the need to give a name or a label to it.

The minute you apply language to it you have labeled it. . . .

Language is the auditory version communication of limitation. . . .

The next is a few difficult questions if one is to use language to converse ideas

What is this freedom how will you know when you arrive?

- To me there is no freedom in this plane of existence for physical existence in itself demands an enforced presence in a specific plane of reality from which there is but one escape.

I had a shamanic experience where I met myself twenty years into the future - My future self was allowed to tell my present self one thing the "she" felt was the most important thing to know going forward.

That one thing was:

"Do not waste you life attempting to find it's ultimate meaning, but live your life as if it all has meaning. Meaning has a way of making itself.

. . . .

03-16-14, 12:59 PM
What is this freedom how will you know when you arrive?

You will. There can be no mistake when you do arrive. I havent reached it, but this much i know.

03-16-14, 01:21 PM
You will. There can be no mistake when you do arrive. I havent reached it, but this much i know.

Do you know any one who has reached this? See all that you will be already is. . . If it is not already there it can never be.

I am stepping outside the bounds of space time - this may help a bit but in order for one to achieve that which are are desiring stepping out of the limitations of space time will be a requirement = a minimal one.

If you wish to stay in physical space time then a specific destination is required in order for you to arrive . . .

Hope this helps :)

03-16-14, 02:24 PM
I don't think logic is going to be of much help here. Logical thoughts are the walls of our prison cell. They will lead us in circles as they have done since the beginning of recorded history. Logic has not produced a day of peace, only transformation can do that.

If I say that we must become to be what we already are, you will think that I am talking baloney. The only way for this to make sense, is for the mind to be able to hold apparent contradictions inside and see that they are not opposed at all. The mind needs to see that the timeless and the temporal coexist and do not mutually exclude each other. This is a step beyond duality, and logic is not able to make that step.

I want to stress that I can not in any way prove this to you. This is inherently unprovable.

For a person to see a lighthouse three things are needed:
A) a lighthouse
B) good eyes
C) the realization that those eyes must be opened first

And no, I havent met anyone yet whom I am certain to have found this solution, only a few probables. But I can not verify that until I have seen if for myself.

03-16-14, 02:39 PM
the lighthouse is sympathetic to the blind - it has a foghorn.

Most run from the light or approach wiht caution, but perhaps the best result is found by running over the reeef full steam ahead!

But how can we blind ourselves to the constant recurrence of situations distinguished only by camouflage from that of two shipwrecked men with but one plank to cling to? If the plank will not hold more than one, they must either both die or one must win in a fight, unless one decides to give up his life voluntarily, Karl Jaspers