Radical Openness

RADICAL OPENNESS – An anthem on the power of IDEAS created by Jason Silva at Therapy Studios.

Presented at TEDGlobal 2012

Inspired by the ideas of TED, Chris Anderson, Richard Dawkins, James Gleick, Matt Ridley, Steven Johnson, Kevin Kelly, Ray Kurzweil, Imaginary Foundation and many others.

Dedicated to those who believe in IDEAS WORTH SPREADING!!

[quoted from the description box of the video on Vimeo]

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Complex States At Being

Emotions can be incredibly complex states of being/mind.

I just want to be happy by bravelittlebird on flickrPeople (particularly in this western culture) are afraid to experience emotion due to heavy amounts of socialization and conditioning, especially in school. You know, we’re taught to sit still, to be quiet, to “use our inside voices”, to line up, to avoid disorder and be orderly, to obey, to submit, to share. To share, but not to cooperate. There is a difference. Sharing does not necessarily imply or guarantee cooperation. In school, sharing is a behavioral technique; used as a means to control the behavior of a room full of pinging (that is, naturally rambunctious and curious-minded) short beings.

Let me tell you a story: a sad story about a little girl who cried.cry_baby_cry_by_Barbara_Pellizzon_flickr

To get to City Island one can walk across a 2,800 foot long truss bridge, which was exactly what I was doing when I spotted a brief exchange between a little girl and her father. The little girl’s father, pushing another child in a stroller, told the little girl to look around as well as look at all the fish visible in the River below. The little girl was throwing bread over the side of the bridge to the fish, and seemed very happy.

Later, having crossed the bridge, I was sat under a pavilion and saw the little girl and her family again as they were passing by. The little girl tripped over a rise in the structure of the sidewalk and fell very hard. So hard that I winced when I heard the sound. She immediately bawled, as I’m sure that hurt her terribly. Probably terrified at the pain, you know, she ran to her father for solace. . . and he admonished her. He yelled at her as he brushed the dirt from her clothes, “You gotta watch where you’re walking. You can’t be looking around while you’re walking!” He seemed actually angry with her that she tripped, an accident on her part, no intent to spoil his day whatsoever. She only cried harder asking then for her mommy. At this, her father really became angry and shouted, “That’s it! You’re going back to the car you can’t act right!”

Did you see the contradiction?

Just moments ago, on the bridge he was telling her to LOOK around, then minutes later punished her for doing exactly that. These are the kinds of happenings that disturb me in the world. What did that do to the mind of that little girl? How could she possible understand that kind of contradicting information from such a trusted and authoritative figure as her father? What was the impact upon her consciousness? What did she just unconsciously learn? How did that affect her ego? Her sense of self in the world she knows and how will that affect her sense of self in subsequent years?

Which brings me back to emotions and the horrors some humans have undergone. That suffering. What I think not many humans grok is that suffering can be soft, horror is not always large, it can be very subtle. . . like entropy, changing and developing small vibrations over time that then result in the current personality/identity of that child in the form of an adult.

The_Girl_Who_Cried_Wolf_by_GaelForcePhotography_flickrWhat happened to that little girl is a subtle terror, an event that will accompany who knows how many more and will shape her as a human being. It’s systematic, to get children all to sit still or to behave as one being so it could be easier (or more efficient) for the teacher to educate them. A good idea, sure, but in actuality what happens is that the children become standardized. The spark, the inspiration for creativity and innovation and imagination breaks down because the channels created have no room for them, no means to categorize something as unpredictable as a room full of children all having ideas simultaneously.

This is one way that fear of emotion is installed in the collective consciousness. That fear to really let go and be fully in the space. . .

“. . . and I’m free, free falling.” ~Tom Petty, ‘Free Falling’

*Image credits (used with permission through CC license)–
“I just want to be happy” by bravelittlebird
“cry, baby, cry” by Barbara Pellizzon
“The Girl Who Cried Wolf” by GaelForce Photography

EleMENTAL I: Shaman’s Song

What if everything you knew was a deception. . .Dream of the Shaman

. . . and the truth was closer than you think?

EleMENTAL I: Shaman’s Song

Shaman’s Song symbolizes the terrestrial element “Fire”, representing the fever of thought, creativity, imagination and consciousness.

EleMENTAL is a series of videos (in 4 parts) merging the theme of the elements (earth, air, fire and water) with the elements of consciousness.

FEEL THE ENERGY.

eleMENTAL II: Earth Consciousness OM

Credits–
Clips (all clips are HD and used with permission through CC license):
“Shaman” by Nahum Saldana M.
“Fiat Lux Hugo” by Verb Studios
“Ayahuasca Sagrada: Psyun vs. Ares” by Community Video
“Stepping Into The Fire” (trailer) by Robert Velez

Images/Artwork (used with permission through CC license):
“Trance (Shaman)” by Collin Key
“My Friend Ganesha” and “The Magician” by H. Kopp-Delaney
“Dream of the Shaman” by Cornelia Kopp

Music (used with permission through CC license):
“Tribal” by Alessandro Lambertini

Titles (used with permission through CC license):
“Stepping Into The Fire” (trailer) by Robert Velez

Other footage:
All campfire footage filmed by NIKOtheOrb

*Image credit (top of page): “Dream of the Shaman” by Cornelia Kopp

The Other Side: Part One

“How long you been waitin’?” the tall boy asked the smaller one ahead of him.

“About two hours. You?”

“About the same.”

The two boys glanced down the line ahead of them. Fifty or more people snaked out of the doorway of The Roulette. They didn’t mind. They were in no hurry.

“What’s your name?” the taller boy asked.

“Jason. Yours?”

“Terry. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands.

“Yea,” Jason agreed.

“Know anyone been through and made it? Cigarette?” The small boy pulled a crumpled, nearly empty pack of Smokes from his jacket pocket.

“Nah,” Terry said, taking a cigarette. “Thanks. You?”

“Yea. Had a friend, knew this kid once, his brother.” He lit their cigarettes. He took a long drag, and then said, “About ten years back when they first opened The Roulette here. `S been about half a dozen or so around, but this was the first one here. This kid’s brother was part of the first bunch of kids to be selected after they stopped takin’ adults and started using kids. He was about, oh, I don’t know, think he was about the twentieth person in line. He was behind this red-haired kid. But uh, they got to talkin’. You know, small talk. Don’t really mean nothin’. Just talkin’ so’s not to have to think about what you’re in line for, right? They get to be about fourth or fifth in line, and this red-haired kid starts freakin’, right? This kid’s brother’s like trying to keep him movin’, right, hollerin’ and cryin’, prayin’ and all that, man. This kid’s brother starts getting’ nervous, you know? Starts thinkin’ that if they think he’s with ‘im, and just take `em both now, you know? They can do that” The small boy paused to take a hit off his cigarette.

“Go on, man. What happened?” the taller boy urged, glancing down the line. The building loomed closer, the line shorter.

“They let the kid sniffle and scream `til they’re right at the door, man. Next, right. These huge guards snatch him outta line and take him through this other door. This kid was kickin’ and screamin’ the whole way, man. Bawlin’, right?”

“Chicken shit.”

“Yea, right? The brother watches them all the way, man. Just starin’. Just before they drag the kid through the door and into whatever hell beyond, the kid stops cryin’ and looks at this brother, man. Right in the eyes, man, and just stares. His eyes are blank, like nothin’ behind `em. He says somethin’ to him. He says: ‘I saved you.’ Freaked this guy out, man. Then they pull `im through and there’s nothin’. Just silence.”

“Wow.”

“This kid’s brother’s next now, right. And he goes in and comes out the other side, man. But the kid behind him: No.”

The line moved up. The two boys could see those ahead of them entering the dark mouth of The Roulette. They heard nervous almost insane laughter, and some tears ahead. They were the only ones talking. It was against the rules to converse with the person in front or in back of you, but no guard had been by to warn them to shut up.

“What’re you saying, man?” the taller boy questioned, his voice shaking only a little. But he wasn’t nervous, just a little cold. That’s all.

The smaller boy rolled his eyes. “I’m sayin’, if they hadn’t dragged that kid outta line, he’d’ve been the guy on the other side and this kid’s brother . . .”

“Shit, man. Shit. That’s a helluva story, man.”

to be continued. . .

Part Two here and Part Three here.

More short short stories here.

*Image credit: “Buckner Building” from Granny Moo Stock.

Where Time Stands Still

            Hello! And welcome to the 26th Dimension. Careful, you will encounter many unusual attractions. Please mind where you step, the floor in the 10th dimension can get a bit runny, and the walls in the 17th dimension disintegrate altogether. Of course, by the 20th dimension, the telescopic ceiling will evaporate for your mental safety, but you’ll not be able to forget the pregnant pull of event horizons on your body I promise you that. No, please don’t touch that, the material feels and shatters like wedding china.

If you look to your mirror left you should find the bloated gases of infant galaxies comforting, and to your asymmetrical right you may see carbon planets coalescing in the dense, elemental heat. Ah, yes, the explosion of faraway bangs gravid with potential, peaceful isn’t it? I must warn you, Time will dance with the oscillating furnishings before you, and after you, if you pay close attention, but, only briefly, and only with your permission.

Are you chilly? I’m sorry, but I have only a blanket of anticipatory silence to offer you. Stay close, the perverted mobiüs strips of these corners can cause confusion and loss of coordination.

Yes, these five dimensional doorways do belch an ambiguous bouquet. I smell it too. I suppose you could cry out, but the reverberation of collapsing space would swallow it before it reached the end of your face. Apologize for bringing you here? I guess I could, but who (or what?) would bother to wipe up the mess? You could leave this particular dimension, but I wouldn’t if I were you, the doorknobs tend to move with the ticking of the space-time continuum, and you would definitely get lost in some obscure year or century, and I wouldn’t want that on my record. I’m looking to be Tour Guide of the Month, you know. Yes, those bulbous masses of what seem like satisfying sofas are ages scrolling forward and backward, but rest assured, presently we are still. No, I wouldn’t open my eyes just yet, infinity multiplied by infinity tends to stare back, I’m afraid. Even if we did remove, odds are we’ll begin again at the end, so it’s best to just move on to the end of the beginning, don’t you agree? We’re nearly around the room. So glad you noticed, the day breaks (and quite literally too!) here, often, while strange geometrically impossible shapes flap against that upside stairwell. Nothing equals nothing, so something refuses to exist here. Speaking of something, some thing with slobbering jaws and comfortable shoes just floated past your shoulder, and I think you’ve begun to grow a sixth appendage from your ribcage. No matter, the water still tastes like water every other Friday, and like cotton on every opposing Tuesday, that is, when such concepts as “Friday” and “Tuesday” bother to exist. I’m Contradictory? I suppose it may seem so. I can’t tell anymore, I’ve been here a long time. At least, I think I have. It’s difficult to know, all the clocks here are figured in modular arithmetic. Well, believe me, I don’t mean to be cryptic, but numbers are theoretical here. No, if you lean against that wall, you’ll lose viscosity, and you wouldn’t want that, would you? I know you’re tired, but we’re nearly through. See? Here’s the way in again. Oh, you needn’t worry about anything, your senses will reconstitute when you return to your own dimension.

Thank you and I do hope you enjoyed the tour. For your pleasure, there is a universal whiskey bar that serves cosmic-strength caffeinated coffee at the opposite end of the spectrum, a mere six billion light years to the negative sixteenth power from here, and a café that serves three dimensional tea that tastes faintly of summer ginger with a pinch of relish may open in an hour, when and if the hour decides to re-present itself.

Mind your step at the edge of Time on your way out.

*Top image: “Where Time Stands Still” by Thy Darkest Hour
Second image: photomanipulation by NIKOtheOrb using stock “Cosmos 4_0008 “and “Starfield” by Funerium distrubuted by Resurgere Stock and “Yoga Model” by Stock Gallery
Third image: “Constellation of Time” by FractalAngel-Stock