Posted by Simon Parke, 03 January 2018, 10.21am
I am not well today.
I find myself mistaking information for knowledge; I am clearly not well in the mind.
I have spotted the symptoms of this dismal pox.
My pinball mind devouring information as though I am made wiser by this transaction, cleverer about the world.
Yet one hundred pieces of information – no, one thousand – do not add up to one piece of knowing.
They add up to a disengaged and feckless nothing.
In trying to know more, I know an endless less, becalmed in frustrating shallows, and some way from meaning.
So today, wishing to be well, I make conscious retreat from the plastic info fountains; I cease my greedy, grabby and distracted drinking.
And through the doorway of slow, (so reluctantly approached) I access a different receptivity, a higher meaning, a deeper wordless beyond.
Through the doorway of slow, (it opens more easily with practice) my pinball mind calms to attention, and I seek to know just one thing well.
One person well
Or one picture well
One story well
One object well
One feeling well
And here, like a wide and sunlit valley, is a more expansive knowing, a deeper holding, a timeless now.
Here I cry more, but I see more; and the restless dissolves sometimes into joy.
‘We are knee-deep in a river, searching for water,’ writes Kabir Helminski.
It is my relationship to information that makes me unwell.
It takes me from myself; abducts me from participative knowing and leaves me in shit land.
When I notice this, (noticing is the best medicine) I try the doorway of slow and the deep seeing beyond.