Flavor+

In meditation, I seek the truth of my existence. My existence is both general and specific. I am one example of my species. I am one with my species. I am one inexact copy.

In the past, I have sought an explanation for the thoughts in my head, which have no meaning to me because I see them as just so much electrochemical noise, looking to others of my kind so I can extract some universal meaning, especially for repetitive thoughts ("I am hungry now," "I have sexual urges now," etc.). Otherwise, I don't have a specific reason to give importance to thoughts for thought's sake, without a need for input from my hypothalamus. I recognize my thoughts are usually relative in importance only in relation to my surroundings.

I remind myself that a human's life is truly simple - adapt to one's surroundings to preserve one's self and one's offspring. As we all know, our population grows and requires greater adaptation skills to differentiate one from the rest of us and thus create a specialization that others need of one to ensure they solidly support one's place in the village.

I have now taught the first class for each of three 11 weekly classes where I'll instruct students in the art of organizing their electrochemical processes so they can prove to their village they have a specialization, guaranteed in writing.

I do not have a strong monetary motivation to teach. I do not have children of my own to feed, clothe and house. I face every waking moment of my recent past, present and near-term future adjusting my mantra of ["Have kids. Take care of your family."], with no kids or family in-need feeding into my daily meditation.

I am all I have. I am all I need. Or am I? ...hmm...

I am like every human being on Earth and I am not like any human being on Earth. By personal observation and interpretation of scientific studies, I am a social creature. I am also a creature of habit, adapting to new conditions with difficulty. I work well by myself and work well with others.

Kenyon, the director of recruiting at the ITT Tech Madison campus, told me today that the success of the campus depends on having instructors who are flexible.

I sing the body electric.*

[*Ode to Walt Whitman, Slim Whitman, and Wit]

I focus on one thought, one line of thoughts, one emotional state, or a combination of those, to enjoy the "taste" of them. Like pouring sugar or capsaican on my tongue, feeling the rush and intensity of purity. But do I not also enjoy complex flavors? Isn't that why my wife and I visit gourmet restaurants because of the edible masterpieces created by flavor artists? Quality over quantity, to put it crudely.

The conclusion is just out of reach, around the corner, over the horizon, clouded by space and time.

What am I doing here? There is no "Who am I?" to resolve. There is no purpose I must find. It's a matter of deciding which is more important to me at this point - mellowing in the randomness of electrochemical processes or concentrating/focusing them to get the next new "high." The latter gets me out of bed in search of a new adventure, if only one in my mind. Am I just an endorphin flavor fan?

Even in my dreams? Then why meditate? To reset the baseline for my next electrochemical rush, of course. Only now do I see I spent too many years pushing my baseline off the scale with artificial stimulation. No regrets there, though, because the stimulants provided many an insight and situation for a story I enjoyed writing later on. The next 15,027 days provide me ample time to slice and dice my electrochemical processes into fun units to explore, where my secrets of the universe wait to be discovered!

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+ After watching the movie, "The Name of the Rose," and reading online information about Umberto Eco and his tribute to Borges.