playing is the third
How does one write? Is there a write way? I like to type. It’s odd that I enjoy typing; at least to me. I enjoy the finger/ mind dexterity. At times I look only at the screen; at times only at the keys. More often than not it’s a combo. A nun taught me. I can’t recall her name but I was certain it was a man’s name. A buddy and I cheated on our weekly testing- taking advantage of sister what’s-his name’s godly graces and naiveté in 1987. however, even then I enjoyed the potential skill of typing; reminiscent of playing an instrument its physically staccato rhythm tip-tock-tapping the devil’s tattoo through my fingers , past my brain to paper or screen.
I tend to be stymied by the act of writing. Generally finding myself stuck and unable to take initiative. Stuck in a thick glue of despondency that I could never achieve some deity-worthy prose that cut through the mundane falseness and penetrate some untouchable pulse of muse’s heartbeats. The thick ponderousness of a slow and dense reality where manifestations move about sluggish years is a difficult thing at best to be tolerated by a continuously mercurial mind. But there in lies the rub, as the poet says. How to reconcile two opposites? Jung portrays a truth of an active third. An undeniable force that joins the adverse aspects of a coin through a dynamic and potent presence.
There are those who believe that these vitalities are sentient entities and species-specific forces; created by countless years of being and feeling and thinking. As essential to our existence as air or water. This ethereal consciousness grows and corresponds with our collective sharing of the planet and its struggles and joys; it’s roles and positions; its deeds and misdeeds. They are the antipodes; the ones who dwell there.
It is life that is the active third of us and our shadow.
My son plays video games like no one’s business. “dad. Ya know that game we got the other day? Well, I beat it.” I am impressed at the speed and foolish fearlessness he proceeds through them. Although he misses many nuances of a story he achieves a certain primal level of accomplishment, especially concerning the active adventurousness of the themes.
Without bothering to read the instructions, whether they come with the game or not; he boldly dives into the process, reckless and nearly rabid. He controls the action on the screen. It’s a world that is made by numerous people. There different visions of a particular milieu are somewhat mirrored by the world of the consumer. Many years of genres have imparted a mythology. Take for example the high fantasy of Tolkien or the soap opera melodrama of a space opera, and certainly the sophisticating and depressing style of Japanese and Chinese martial arts films. All of these have many active participants that slowly flesh out a somewhat standard form of existence for affairs of this fictional life. He knows basic standards of how the controls work. The “x” button is generally an “action” controller. The right trigger more often than not fires a gun. Yet these buttons in combination with others at certain times may cause other affects. And while many personalities have determined other standard forms of actions to stimuli we have a meager reflection of life as computer game.
My son is the soul. The personality he chooses to take in this role playing game produces effects in the “reality” of the game. The other souls projecting through their own actor’s personality. He controls the actions. Often mistakenly, and definitely with the more complex maneuvers he stumbles through this being. Because we have all read and dreamed and drawn dragons we have a preconceived notion of what it may be like and how it may behave. Of course it has as many options of action to stimuli as we due to the infinitely varied potential of our thoughts. We are only limited somewhat by our consensus of what our reality is like. If we all agree that dragons have scales then most likely it will present itself. By this point however the dragon and what it may or may not represent on any level has gradually gathered more energy and become an entity of itself. This of course has happened for the most part 30,000 years ago but we do still continue to affect it’s temperament and needs fro life. It breathes and eats and has desires just as each sentient creature. Some more advance than others, as mankind is to plants.
These archetypes are the “rules” of a video game. In grand theft auto, if one breaks the rules the cops eventually give chase as the scenario changes and one’s character interacts. As one’s behavior changes in the game so does the reality. An artificially intelligent program may behave in interesting ways. We project onto them and infiltrate their behavior just as theirs may inspire our choices. Projection is two multi-laned highway at rush hour. We created a multitude of beings that need to feed by attracting and magnetizing others towards us that fit our filtering of these shadowy sides of ourselves. As they move through us we change how they present themselves. Being enormous and not nearly as plentiful as the number of creatures on a planet they result in occupying all minds. A mere low percentage of us , these select vigors project through all of us. Their multitude of versions again interacts in our lives creating reality.
We watch a play yet impinge upon the drama; often jumping on stage, possibly stealing the show or perhaps hiding in a balcony seat, peering from behind a curtain with opera glasses on a stick and a ridiculous wig.
So how does one write? Who are these muses, and what do they partake of and what do they require as sacrifice? How can we relate to them and move our others into mutual alignment? Somehow I must reach into their lands and establish contact. To learn their language is paramount for to enjoy the best play I can produce. Let’s choose the actors and stage crew. Let’s bring in creative people and reliable managers. Let’s gather a quality audience in a beautiful old theatre full of history and romance. Tend to the gaslights, oil the trap doors, secure the riggings and mend the curtain. There’s a show today! We haven’t rehearsed properly if at all. No one is certain of their part, but we have a good gist of the story. We control the genre and plot. Generally speaking theirs are only so many plots and themes. The muses remain elementally leagued as a small company of characters. Use them wisely for affect and reap the effects of leisure and pleasure.
Happy playing. For playing is the third.
She wasn't a muse, only a messenger to seduce me deeper in. In to the core of something larger than just myself is where she beckoned. She had me convinced that I am called to right. If only I could break free of this cocoon, a chrysalis of contemplation; then I could right.
