Yesterday my father came downstairs and told me about the revelation he had in the night. He was describing the waveform in the turbine disk.
He turned from me dismissively. “Bah,” he said. “You are not even watching!”
“Yes I am,” I replied, though I wondered how much I knew and how I could show it.
“It’s a kind of a sawtooth shape,” is what I heard come out of my mouth.
He looked a bit stunned.
“Yes,” he said. “A kind of a sawtooth. It’s a sawtooth that is the base for all the dynamics, and the other harmonics aren’t important.”
I coould tell that he hadn’t though of “sawtooth” before this, and the term pleased him, was useful.
I just wondered how the hell I knew that from some vague hand motions caught out of the edge of my eye.
I know what it is to be a human doing rather than a human being, do and do because you believe that you are doo-doo. It’s what I did last night at the buffet resturant as I cared for my mother.
And when I do, that comes from some kind of concious response and creation, rather than from some deep place. It is speaking miracles.
The limits of that concious response are the limits of my defenses.
The limits of my unconcious responses, the ones that surprise & delight me, that give insight, well, those limits are bigger than me.
And they are the only thing that gives me a glimmer of possibility.