Tuesday, July 22, 2025
Being blinded by panic is a way of disconnecting. Panic turns you into a dumb animal-like creature with mere basic instinct. You start swinging and thrashing, taking a shot at anything that moves, trying to see in 360 degrees. It’s a last-ditch effort to survive. It can be useful in certain situations, but existing this way is draining.
Sophisticated intellect is a form of blindness too, but insomuch that it’s hyper focused, letting go. It’s a deep dive into the microcosmic now, into what you are doing, who you are with, and who you are. “Getting into” a good book, “diving into” a deep conversation, “falling into” a good musical experience, are blinding. The macrocosm vanishes. These narrowing experiences are only possible to those who are extremely alert, but unalarmed. It’s a relaxed comportment, a microscopic laser of fire. It’s connecting to a level of sharpness which few realize.
Blind, deep-diving into the micro is ecstasy. It’s pure love. You fall in love with the music you’re making, with the painting you’re painting, with the writing you’re writing, with the conversation you’re having, with all of it. You fall into a black hole of focus, all of it becoming an effortless dance of unity.
The alarmed have fallen onto “hard times,” thinking they are holding up every aspect of life. Overwhelm has blinded refinement of the highest intellect. If you go the opposite direction and dive in, you become unarmed, unalarmed, and “gone.” You have to practice, though. Your skills must be refined. If you have to concentrate on the movement, it won’t happen. But when you begin to trust your body, your mind, your environment, and your practiced state of alertness, you’ll enter the heavenly realm of ecstasy. Alert yet unalarmed, the heavenly realm of the microcosm is gone without a trace, yet present and accounted for.