As I waded through my own meandering accumulation of knowings (and the words to describe them) playing with possibilities on where to start, I found myself hyper aware of the power of the ever existing and actual, is.
“Beingness” is close to “isness” but I recognized there are ample who’d argue with me over the believability of rock beingness, yet those same people wouldn’t/couldn’t argue any given rock’s isness, for it is a rock, is it not?
Even in my asking there’s that present tense actuality of is.
Is it, or is it not? Is the rock, or is the rock not?
“Is, or is not the rock what?” I inquire back to myself, and yet by then it’s already dawned on me that the answer to that “what” question will be another is.
Tis the same way my typing is on a keyboard-- and in that, there is the isness of my typing (I am typing, it is happening,... and this may get maddening) isness of my fingers (each fingers is a finger,) isness of the keyboard, even the isness of the thoughts as I write them; gems of genius from brain to fingertips on the (isnesses that are) buttons we commonly call keys, and as I please, the isness of the time and space I’m doing it in.
I begin again, the ponderous path making of my contemplating. Stating the rock is a rock like the other rocks made of the same minerals, is true, yet incomplete from the seat of that rock, for it is the only rock that is that rock, in its current placement on the planet, in this time of me (the right now of my existing.)
When I stop resisting that isness includes rockness in the makeup (minerals) of being a rock, and also the isness of the time and space that rockness occupies, I dogmatize (settle my opinion that) “isness” is the distinction of specific existence.
Which means to me, the isness of the rock today isn’t the same as it was a million years ago. Even though our technology may be able to tell us that the rock existed a million years in the past, alas, what that technology is really telling us, is that the rock is a million years of isnesses; existences, the oldest of which may be unrecognizable if pictured next to the youngest.
Among us, the isness of the planet (Earth) similarly includes the isness of that rock I reference in my pondering. And like the rock, the isness of Earth today isn’t the same as the isness of when it first became what we call a planet.
So, I ran it in my mind again and came to realize that isness can be called the expression of existence.
The expression of existence is.
Such a whiz of wonder weighted and baited me into the next onset.
Concepts and ideas are existing things, and as things of what they are, they have and are the isness of those things in sum. From the thinking blip of their (concept and idea) existence, to the vocalized, and or printed sharing of them; each version is its own isness of the thing. Isn’t it?
Just like that, I feel and see (in my mind) all the is in all the isnesses from the subatomic particles (neutrons, protons, and electrons; pieces that harmonize together as an atomic-element; the globally culturally accepted scientific reference to the “smallest” physical building blocks of everything in our reality,) individually and in totality (complexly making me,) to the thoughts of all whom are capable of thinking; each thought its own is.
It’s almost just like staring at the grains of sand on a beach, down the coastline where the sand-made shores keep going, beyond knowing… each granule of sand that is land in air and sea, is the isness that it be.
Every particle of smoke churning from the burning end of a dried sage leaf, an isness all its own. I feel it known, the isness of the first birthed particle of smoke nearest the cherry blaze of the embered sage (leaf,) experiences its own evolution of isnesses in the rise of its hot spawning, every new height, position, and temperature a new isness; a new version of the same smoke particle, in a new time and space in its thermodynamic (flowing) race skyward.
In that envisioning, I think, isness is an example of infinity (endlessness,) for as long as there is existence there will be a continuation or evolution of the is that exists into new isnesses, new existences; like the grain of sand washed onto the shore of land to live a new life than it had in the sea.
Too, the bumble bee explorer isness that becomes new knowing versions of itself with every discovery of new territory.
In this way, I find isness is a path to understanding the natural everlastingness and truth of the stream of infinity; though not the only one...
* excerpt from my work-in-progress pocket book, "WISE I'S HAVE IT"
If a truth is man made then it is impossible for it to be absolute. If a truth is universal though, then it is absolute. You see a man made truth is always corrupted with the bias of a side and can work much like opinions. A non-fiction book may be true, but it always will carry a bias of one side over another. Where as a fiction book is obviously fake but they generally contain a lesson of truth. I think Neil Gaiman said it best, "Fairy tales are more than true, not because they tell us dragons exist. But because they tell us dragons can be beaten."
Some truths are built on an empire of dirt; words hold no meaning and the consequences, though dire, seem almost irrelevant. A dinghy lulls in a sea of information--worlds collide, histories blurred, cultures and its people erased, war and its atrocities ameliorated through sheer will; is it ignorance? They walk, deluded and forgetful; angry and frightened of their own shadows, scapegoats and conspiracy theories arise to give legitimacy to delusions because the truth destroys the fragile ego that has become overbloated with arrogance. The ‘truth’ they seek only further pulls them under the current of distortion and manipulation. Lies. They are all lies.
Who do you believe?
“Yes, but who do YOU believe?” I asked her again, in frustration, as we seemed to be going round and round.
“I believe my government not your government. Your government is always spreading negative stories about my country and they are NOT true!” Her voice was rising in tone as she got more angry with me for repeating the same accusations that my government regularly made. “Your government NEVER supplies any evidence, just making wild accusations. Of course, my government is peaceful and has no interest in interfering in your internal matters, so why can’t you leave us alone and sort out your own mess first!”
“You’ve been brainwashed since birth to believe the stuff your government fills your head and they keep repeating day after day in these press conferences. Don’t you ever want to ask some awkward questions of your own government – just for once? Isn’t that what an investigative reporter should be doing?”