Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Today's Rambling of Thoughts Brought to You By Past Reflection NOT Present Drepression (Hee Hee I Rhymed)

I discovered the following essay while going through my notes this morning.  I remember I was reading Stephan Hawking's "A Brief History of Time," and had began, as I always do, to apply the scientific concepts to a philosophical reflection in life.   

My Black Holes in Life by Rachael Kvapil

There is a deep black hole in my soul.  A vast undecorated universe that once held twinkling lights and orbs of destinations.  What most likely started with a big bang ended as a big bust.  Somewhere something rendered a cut in the fabric of my nicely decorated universe so that the orderly pattern of molecules let loose into a spin that hungrily slurped all the beautiful things in my life until only starvation is left.

I have no food to sedate my fear of abandonment.  Everyday I graze through life feeding my fears as they feed upon me.  It is a symbiotic relationship. I get scared to write, I each chocolate.  I feel intense stress over the quality of my design, I eat Nutri-Grain Bars.  I feel edgy about my weight, a big smattering of yesterday's lefterovers should do the trick.  It's gotten to the point where I only nourish my body to nourish the desperate anxiety that feels the need for more room to run rampant. Yet, I have no food for abandonment.  Believe me, I've tried to find something; a particular candy or bread.  There is no excuse for me NOT to have SOMETHING because with enough practice I can make anything a reality.

At times I wonder if maybe I'm looking in the wrong direction.  Not necessarily lost, because genius Marilyn vos Savant would explain "lost by definition means you can't find your way home." I know my home.  It's a tiny home in Fairbanks, Alaska.  Then if it isn't enough to give me comfort, I tell myself that Earth is my home; third rock from the sun.
 
Stephen Hawking made black holes scary for me.  In his book A Brief History of Time, he more than adequately describes the devastating effects black holes have when they move into town.  Until then I believed that black holes were a mild celestial neighbor corkscrewing to the center of something deep and unseen in the natural universe.  A right of passage if you will.  Yet, Hawking debunked this myth by explaining how black holes are deconstruction zones for time a physics as we know it.  He used an example of a typical spaceship from early science fiction stories that often traveled to the center of black holes and out again.  According the Hawking this was impossible because the dark matter of black holes are compressed the further inward they move.  As they compress the mass grows heavier and heavier until the shear weight would rip the ship apart.  Likewise black holes are not benign events.  Instead they twirl on and one and on until everything around them is consumed and they only have themselves left to consume.
 
Abandonment is painful and in my young life I lived it every two or three months when my father left for work on the North Slope.  Unlike physical wounds, where pain initiates at the point of trauma, abandonment is slow growing. The walk from the house, the ride to the airport, then the three (and later four) of us standing at the edge of the gate in tears as we give enough hugs to last two to six months.  Like all wounds there is post traumatic drama.  An aimless wandering through the airport concourse talking about where to go for breakfast or lunch as we tried to remember where we left the car and the best way to get back to the house. They say home is in your heart.  Yet, when the black hole as shredded your heart, did home go with it?  They physical body then becomes the orphan wandering from orb to orb looking for comfort, but only finding nourishment.  I am fed and clothes, but the place I called home was long ago dismantled by abandonment.

Despite what Hawking says I still carry a wistful notion that the laws of physics are as just as the laws of man.  While abandonment corkscrews inward, I am hoping that it reaches a point where it passes into a new realm where it unwinds as well.  All its mass unwinds and reassembles every particle compressed in its grubby little hands.  Where the black hole is not threatening, nor even benign. Rather it is friendly and giving and neighborly.  This black hole is where I call home.

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