One of the first hermetic laws is how
The world is all Mind
However you want to interpret that.
What better way to cradle a people than weaving them along all other imaginary fibres – what better command of a world than to snap it into and out of existence with a flick of thought?
These devices we have, well, they’ve quite the attention grab – not a fun nor new topic. Though it’s probably because it can instantiate thought the same as any Worldsmith. Even if one often leaves it in reserve, or for topical tasks of the day – like looking up common Ruby on Rails commands.
One can sink instead. Words as sign posts, or images too. If you’re titillated enough by the high-priest Pharmaceuticals then drugs could expedite the whole process. Though after enough sinking sometimes everything seems so scrambled; a hotel bedside view won’t get you any closer to piecing the strands together. Maybe the billboards can beckon you for a gambling night, ignoring the downstruck eyes of the waitress.
All the pretty colors but one may still open and close the same tabs every minute. Each caption renders itself more and more lifeless despite the bartender smiling along for a last hurrah in Vegas.
What’s missing?
One may know a bunch of programming terms, business terms, social terms, trivia, memorabilia – though it seems to only sink one deeper.
As long as one breathes so one shall hope for beautiful things, is a family motto as any. But it strikes the core here: pursuit of beauty alone is what justifies the boulders ahead. It alone justifies all the scars. Who wouldn’t want to see a cosmic finale? We march! So much so one could reckon this to be the underlying motive behind many movements, however unacknowledged. Unacknowledged, yet one marches into each city vying for some novelty – in search of this beauty – only to stare out the plane window for the next. Leaving empty.
The strange thing is – of course one could be well aware of the typical portrayal of beauty. A maiden in waiting, a red petal dipped wooden, cathedrals, victory gardens, etc, but it’s only penultimate – the most potent form of beauty is a beautiful mind. Only a beautiful mind can take a barren valley and fashion a village with a cobbled well. Beautiful minds fashion a whole bunch of games suturing our world and mutual understanding. The same how, so some would think, the original beautiful mind instantiated this world.
Where did all the beautiful minds go?
For a guess, not anywhere particularly. In fact you’re probably one of them. But it’s all been forgotten now. And the longer it’s forgotten the more it degrades. Overgrown jaded and desperate for some air.
It is only in our allegiance to mentalist beauty – furthering our ideals, virtue – it is only in our stern gaze can the glass orb animate ways forward. Captivate those in the stands waiting to storm the field.
Surge a Meaning into every meeting.
Without our ideals and virtue – pathways to beautiful worlds – we have nothing. And as the light of each beautiful mind flickers to fade, defiled and disenchanted with modern ways, what recourse is left?
Maybe there’s something beautiful about the descent. Red leaves are always so captivating – its dying flare so we may bid it farewell.
Maybe our fallowed field shall hoist another bunch of Worldsmiths for the life of the world to come.