Can't sleep. Sometimes I get trapped in an existential quagmire. This might be summarized by "I think too much". Because I get this sickening sensation of fear in my gut that life really has no meaning and when we die we are really gone, not just in body but in spirit or soul as well. Here's the thing: If we are the soul - that spark of life...
But why the impulse to analyze? It doesn't change what is or is not to know why or why not. To accept that you don't know and accept some principals that make living more meaningful or at least less stressful make it possible to sleep. To act on faith helps preserve sanity.
Another part of it, just trying to think outside of English. Outside of language at all. Which gospel begins with "In the beginning there was the word and the word was with God, and the word was God"? How was/is that translated? We have concepts and we have words. The words join and separate us. Language defines us. The written word provides our history which puts our lives in context. In context our lives have meaning. We have a place and a story of how we came to be in that place. Oral history provides the essential bones of our larger, global history.
When I worry about consciousness and how it might end when I die - isn't it the death of "I" that frightens me? Yet the goal of Buddhism is cosmic consciousness - joining the universal energy web in mind. Having felt that universal energy stream (albeit high on sex and/or LSD) gives one faith that it exists.
Best compared to music - to the feeling of being "in the zone" when there is no thought - only the interweaving of the sound and you have no consciousness of the body making those sounds.
I'm going back to bed. I think I can sleep now.
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