Few people travel here. There is no real profit to be made by wandering through it, yet like this high country of the material world all around us, it has its own austere beauty that to some people make the hardships of traveling through it seem worthwhile.
In the high country of the mind, one has to become adjusted to the thinner air of uncertainty, and to the enormous magnitude of questions asked, and to the answers proposed to these questions. The sweep goes on and on and on so obviously much further than the mind can grasp one hesitates even to go near for fear of getting lost in them and never finding one's way out.
What is the truth and how do you know when you have it?... How do we really know anything? Is there an "I," a "soul," which knows, or is this soul merely cells coordinating senses? ... Is reality basically changing, or is it fixed and permanent?... When it's said that something means something, what's meant by that?
Robert Pirsig
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
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I get you, man. I hear it. You have a fine woman.
ReplyDeleteTake a read through Being and Nothingness. I have a link for some good notes to it:
http://pvspade.com/Sartre/sartre.html
Nothing in print comes close to these notes.
Ironically enough, this post is nothing about woman or women, it is about a motorcycle ride. A man with his son, heading over a mountain pass in Montana, shivering and wondering how much worse this will get (by worse, of course, I mean better).
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