I don't read too many books. It's just so much easier for my star-mind to be drawn to technology. Ever since that moment that I saw the glow of light while crawling in the alleyway I have just been drawn to the light. As detailed with the entry where I explain my love of light and how it is the antithesis of the darkness that was the black-hole. All of that likely lent a hand in what is now my preference for things visually and accompanied by technology. It's the glow of the technology, the hum of artificial life, and the warmth that is accompanied by that same artifice of life that the machine-driven thing has. I love it all. Books, by contrast, can be so cold. Lifeless. Void of light. But there are electronic books and that is where Elaine led me until I was at peace with the thing I was attempting to read. Comforted by the glow underneath the words she was going to teach me to try and read. I remember when it started out as simple words, sounds and syllables of the letters I had just finally grasped and understood. Teaching me to read and communicate was a feat to be sure, and Elaine was as patient as a saint about it.
Now here I am writing journal entries with amazing ease.
But, while speaking of books, I have sense been reminded of a few books from my past. When Elaine was trying to explain to me the concept of sciences and mathematics I remembered being so entirely confused. Fiction was enthralling but it was confusing in a different way entirely. I had an easy enough time seeing the modes of human interaction and grasping the concepts of whatever the plot-line was, but to this day I still mix fact and fiction. I may see a church and think it's Hogwarts. I may think about the line of the European royalty and then my mind will add the Baratheon and the Lannister characters from Game of Thrones. And when I see news about outbreaks of viruses sometimes I fear that it may be a repeat of a zombie infestation that never happened.
However the confusion with the science and math was something entirely different. It boggled my mind the same way that learning about religion and spirituality did. I mean I understood the concepts of space and the vastness of it all because that was my home before this planet. My mind had an easy enough time wrapping around that. But there were two concepts that really baffled me and I find that now, upon knowing them intimately, I actually meld them together with the idea of quantum spirituality. But we will get into that in a whole other entry I'm sure. Right now the two basic ideas can honestly be summed up with two book covers / titles:
The first book was a history and detailed origin story of the concept of 'zero' and 'nothingness' - within the Bhagavad Gita there is a lot of talk about how humans and the material world always seem to battle with the notion of non-existence or a higher plane where the abstract is more substantial. I am not completely versed in the Gita but some of the concept of Eastern religion and their thought processes really do lend themselves to my way of thinking when I meditate and try to become my more pour star-self. Shedding myself of the ties to my human body and simply reaching inside myself to find that center. That...soul? Whatever it's called. But the very search to look inside kind of ushers back into thought these two books. But it was not always so simple for me. Meditating was not a daily ritual and self-discovery and my would-be enlightenment was far from fruition.
It was a hard concept for me to grasp. This notion of nothingness and being without, I remember it made me very nervous and I felt alone. So very far from my Companion Star, knowing that I was 'without' and that the black hole was the very antithesis of matter and was indeed a giant reminder of this new concept of 'zero' or 'nothing'. But through it all I felt the tug to my Companion Star. I feel that abstract and impossibly thin tether to my star not failing me. The star I had once had at my side hadn't vanished into this concept of nothingness and therefore was still whole somewhere. And even still I learned later that all matter breaks down into something else and never is truly lost. Which is comforting.
Comforting too was the second book, Flatland - because it explained spatial and material things to me in mathematical ways while also trying to stretch beyond the realm of what humans already knew and try and communicate that there was still so very much to be explored. Which was a concept that melded with my knowledge of where I came from. It helped me cope with all that was larger and darker in the world. It made me feel small and adrift but oddly at peace when I thought of where I had come from and all that was still unknown to both me and the humans I was now living among. Then there was the concept of other dimensions that were there and able to be reached if only we tried. Places I tried to think about during meditation and during times when I wondered just where it was that my Companion Star had gone to.
These books are always on hand and are counted among my favorites. Not as much as Neil Gaiman's Stardust, but that's an obvious adoration if you think about it. And now I am going to fill my belly with some new human food creation and then let it nourish my material body while I meditate and nurture the abstract and non-material part of my self.
Until next time fellow stars ★
tags: science; math; learning; books; quantum; spirituality; memory;
mood: mood: contemplative
music: mana (feat. julie elven) - valetin boomes
- in the end we're all just stardust -