The House of Wisdom

Sunday 8 March

     Tonight the House of Wisdom is full. Four new arrivals checked in earlier today. They have strange names: Hungry; Greedy; Curious; and Searcha. I saw them arrive. Searcha urged caution as Curious rushed inside. Greedy rattled his cane before entering, and Hungry followed him. Searcha lingered a moment, then carefully entered the house.
     I stay in my room mostly, trying to construct reality from nothing. It's a magic trick I'm working on, and progress is slow. I'm now exploring social interaction in order to construct reality, so am excited to have new residents in The House of Wisdom.
     I perceive reality internally and externally. External behavior reflects internal motivation. I wonder what internal reality reflects? That's the kind of magic I need to discover.

Saturday 14 March

     I don't know which part of me woke up first today...my senses, mind, or intellect. They seem to have separate paths sometimes. My senses demand the mind's attention, then the mind requests permission from my intellect to facilitate sense desire. I wish they would work as a team more often. I could get so much more done.
     Sometimes I have little motivation, and what there is gets confounded by frame and theory. Magic is hard work, especially trying to conjure something out of nothing. I'm flying blind, surrounded by books full of givens that support one moment and challenge the next.
     I need to suspend disbelief in order to create magic, conjure reality from myth, or harness the transcendent within mortal time and space. The more I immerse myself, the more real it will become. After all, if fictional behavior is a reflection of real behavior, then mythological behavior can be too, alongside the paranormal, and even transcendental.

Tuesday 17 March

     I stay in my room, but I hear the other residents of the house. Hungry clatters cutlery upon china in the dining hall. He is becoming healthy and hearty. Greedy's fortunes have also risen. From here I can hear him upstairs popping fine champagne and negotiating business deals. Curious scurries about discovering nook and cranny from alcove to attic. Searcha has spent his first weeks methodically testing frame and beam, concerned that The House of Wisdom be built to last.
     My magic trick is coming along slowly. The myth/spirit I'm trying to conjure requires composition of setting plus action and dialogue. I hope they will entice it to appear. I also hope my magic can take me with it. I want to go on a journey to new places and experience new emotions.
     For now I am all by myself, but who knows, I might even be able to create a whole new world by the time I am finished. I will enter into the story of the new world, and the new world might enter into me too.

Sunday 22 March

     I have reached an impasse in my magic. I can almost picture the ethereal world I have summoned, but not quite. It remains shifting and dislocated, a mere fog of a visage, certainly not something magic afficionados will pay to see. What I need are signposts so my unformed magic can move and evolve.
     I think I can entice reciprocation supported by suspense, tension, and relief. It needs focus to become more alive. Maybe I need to delve deeper than just imagination.
     How does mythology become belief? How does faith become truth? How does understanding of gods and goddesses, angels and demons, rest within the heart and mind?

Thursday 26 March

     The visitors are still here. I hear them often. Hungry flips pancakes in the kitchen of The House of Wisdom. He is getting quite fat. Greedy paces above, steel tipped shoes click with authority. His business is booming. Curious, as inquisitive as ever, is learning more and more about lots of everything. Searcha reclines on the couch downstairs, perusing ancient books.
     The House of Wisdom is full of books of knowledge. Unfortunately, Hungry only reads cook books, Greedy studies business, and Curious reads lots, but never finishes anything, and remembers little fragments only. At least The House of Wisdom has provided them with a sense of identity.
     I also require identity for my magic. It seems identity has been subsumed everywhere by colonization. Enforcement of moral and literary convention further suppress natural voice. It is not surprising my magic trick is difficult to master. Identity is hard to find, and I am trying to create one out of nothing.
     My magic will require care and attention in order to flourish. Probably there are people who already know how to do this magic trick; maybe a witchdoctor, sage, or mystic will move in one day and teach me more.

Monday 30 March

     It has been a pleasant week at The House of Wisdom. The residents idle away the autumn months. The house hums along. Hungry is now assistant head chef at The House of Wisdom. Every day he eats way too much cake. He sits in the parlor, plate resting on a shelf formed from his own fat belly. Greedy is becoming a bit of a snob. He has his meals delivered to his room. Curious considers himself a connoisseur, but actually knows little, even about food. He picks from here and there, grazing at The House of Wisdom. Searcha likes to savor pudding in the den. He enjoys the aroma of books, fruit jam, and steaming grain.
     Maybe Searcha will find information about magic, and making something appear from nothing. I think magic requires intelligence attuned to both subjective and objective understanding. Otherwise , hierarchical structures might enforce function yet deny imagination. I understand that constructs of social reference support rational discourse and behavior, but meaning can also be conveyed without words. Maybe I am relying too much on formulas...too much abracadabra.

Thursday 2 April

     Every word and gesture signifies potential for greater meaning and import. Sound vibration constantly traverses the Earth. If I can catch it and harness it, maybe move words and sounds into a different order, my shadowy half manifest magic trick will take form. Sometimes it becomes a little clear, but then again goes out of shape, or even vanishes for a while. Sometimes I feel like giving up.
     Searcha said he will let me know if he discovers relevant information. Every magician needs at least one assistant. Curious said he would help too, but I don't want to waste his time, or mine.
     I think my phantom needs a bridge between its world and mine. I will try to build a scenario that presents universally acceptable traits. Of course, my phantom may be from an entirely different universe altogether.

Monday 6 April

     Searcha is becoming a real friend. He is smart and funny. Today he was making jokes about everyone, while relating it to philosophical concepts from ancient Vedic texts. He compared Hungry to anamaya, which means understanding food as the ultimate wisdom. That would make hungry very wise..ha-ha. Greedy was compared to pranamaya, someone who distinguishes various forms in comparison to himself. That's why he wants to become richer than everyone. Curious is jnanamaya, or thinking, feeling, and willing. No wonder his head seems up in the clouds at times. Searcha compared himself to vijanamaya, with mind and life force distinguished from body. He was glad to learn that as his body is not getting any younger.
     The best part was when he mentioned the highest level, anandamaya, which is a blissful, transcendental state beyond body and mind. That's exactly the magic I'm trying to create. Searcha said he will find out more for me.

Friday 10 April

     When I become an expert magician I will hypnotize the audience, yet still give them room to think. That will be a good trick in itself. Maybe my half created phantom needs hypnotizing too. For all I know it could be searching for a home in proper cultural context. For now it remains ambiguous, offering multiple interpretations of shape and form.
     It could be me who is the problem, inadequate in mind and heart, unable to offer suitable residence for my creation. Access may be reliant on a purified heart where transcendence can reside within mortal flesh. Over time, truth can devolve into myth. I know I have to be patient, then over time my myth-like fantasy can evolve, take shape, and become truth.

Tuesday 14 April

     I can't seem to get any work done today. Too many distractions. Hungry and Greedy have been arguing all morning. Greedy called him a fat oaf. He said Hungry is lazy and only learns about food. Hungry replied that wisdom about food is the best of all, because without food we can't even live. Greedy laughed at him before declaring that wealth is the highest wisdom. One thing is for sure, wealth doesn't make Greedy very happy. He argues and complains all the time, and is very demanding. At one point in the argument Curious butted in, attempting a well crafted oration to diffuse the situation, but he became muddled and confused, making things even worse.
     Amongst all the excitement I realized I may be too boring for my phantom to become real. Maybe by tone, or subtle nuance in delivery, my visage will manifest. Now I'm in the middle of re-organizing my room. I need to set the scene so my phantom can find an audience. I also have to teach my magic to speak for itself so the audience will appreciate power and restraint, tension and relief.
     I want my phantom to be heard and felt, not only seen. I think he will leave a lasting impression on the audience. I'm trying to construct a reality, but also offer escape from reality.

Saturday 18 April

     The magic I create is not only for me to enjoy. I also want to teach others about reality within fantasy and myth. Literary devices facilitate absorption in both directions from reality to myth, and back again. My magical hypothesis declares that we have the ability to comprehend and enact a reality beyond fiction and fantasy.
     The intrinsic nature of my magic is more than virtual reality. It may be even more real than presently perceived reality. Maybe it is me who is not real enough to witness the phantom or the world where it lives. Maybe this world is a shadow, a perverted reflection of my true existence. Maybe I should have just stuck to performing card tricks. At times I feel I am losing sight of the forest for the trees.
     If my magical being is from a better world it might enjoy poetic language or flowery metaphor. It could be that I am using the wrong sense altogether. I will try to see by hearing instead of by looking. Interchangeable senses might unlock the door to that other world.
     Searcha is so funny. Today he was comparing everyone to animals. He said Hungry is like a monkey who just eats and sleeps, dreaming that he is a fat, happy king. He said Greedy is a squirrel, saving and hoarding. But now Greedy is too scared to leave his room in case someone breaks in and steals his things. Greedy said he might even employ a security guard. Searcha compared Curious to a mongoose, just like Kipling described in Jungle Book. The mongoose motto seems to be 'run and find out' whenever anything is happening. Searcha compared himself to an elephant..a bit slow, but steady and very alert, with a memory suited to delve deeper into any subject.
     He is researching alternative worlds, and said that if my magic phantom won't come here, maybe I could go there. It would still be magic, but I hope I don't lose my audience on the way.

Wednesday 22 April

     Human characteristics spring from deep within the psyche. I hope the characteristics of my magical being are not beyond words to describe. I guess I will need to trust my audience. If my trick is manifest clearly enough it will provide the necessary revelation within the heart and mind. I don't want to prod my audience by describing emotional response. I want my manifestation to unshackle and unleash response.
     Sometimes my thoughts are stifled and confused. It's no wonder my phantom doesn't want to come out and play. It could be that I am suffocating it within my own mind.

Saturday 25 April

     Tonight I write my journal by torchlight, from underneath my bed. A violent and terrible storm is buffeting The House of Wisdom. Wild and unwelcome winds menace us from all sides. The lights flickered and died. Now, all dark, The House of Wisdom rocks and groans.
     The other residents joked as the storm was brewing, but now cower somewhere in the dark. The House of Wisdom has stood a long time. I feel safe enough, but the storm seems to be getting worse. I will keep you posted. For now I will turn off my torch in case I need it later. I hope my phantom is safe...

Sunday 26 April

     The storm finally passed. And what a night it was. It got more scary as the night wore on. At one point I heard Hungry downstairs in the pantry, stumbling and crashing against pots and pans. For a time he was trapped in the cool-room, but Searcha rescued him. Searcha told me later that Hungry had become famished and disoriented because he was unable to cook or eat anything at all. Even his cake was lost somewhere in the dark. Finally, seemingly starving, Hungry threw his apron on the floor in disgust and stormed out of The House of Wisdom.
     Greedy, in the dark on the floor above, had missed an important business call. I heard a crash as he smashed a wine goblet against the wall, before cursing The House of Wisdom. He then pushed past the ineffective security guard and headed for the darkened exit stairs.
     Curious was heard running around like a frightened deer all night long. He bounded from room to room trying to escape from the howling storm. Every noise and movement seemed to him a portent of doom. He panicked, like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking-chairs, then accidentally bounded out an open door, directly into the teeth of the raging tempest.
     Old Searcha, calm as you please, sat the whole thing out, ensconced on his favorite chair, which he had relocated under the sturdiest of door frames.
     The others, instead of appreciating the safe haven of The House of Wisdom, had abandoned it. Alas, the storm was too strong, and they were tossed far away from The House of Wisdom, and became terribly, terribly lost.
     All night long I had cowered under my bed. Lightning flashed, creating momentary illumination, casting shadows that defied convention. It's hard to explain exactly what I saw or felt. The room seemed to be without structure, a tenuous abstract without formula, one moment divine, the next demoniac. Rules were abandoned and understanding fleeting.
     My room seemed bigger, then smaller, mutable, intangible, deconstructed. I thought I could hear voices in the howling wind. Faces burst forth with each flash of illumination. Walls seemed no more, as distance expanded to infinity.
     I felt alone, yet crowded in , lost in the universe, unhinged from reality. Finally, sometime before dawn I fell asleep...and dreamed.

Friday 1 May

     I wanted to tell you about my dream sooner, but I was confused. Searcha has been helping me to understand things. Actually I don't think it really was a dream. I think it was my magic come to life...
     The room had devolved into a hazy fog from which an apparition formed in the shape of a man. He floated nearby, to where I was cowering under the bed. The man smiled at me, angelic and peaceful, as the storm dissipated.
     He claimed to be from another realm, a higher plane of existence, and that beings like himself used to live here on Earth. He spoke a poem to me, full of melody and metaphor, and apologized for the translation, difficult as it is to convey the words of gods in the language of mortals.
     He spoke of his past and his reasons for leaving this realm, and of his reluctance to appear more fully to me until now. He said that conditions are no longer suitable on Earth for the pastimes of gods and goddesses, and that such things linger in the minds of people only as myths and fables.
     He said that humans are no longer able to directly perceive the world of gods, but if we act in a way that is conducive, God will be able to see us, and the heavens will manifest in our own hearts. He called his poem 'The Material Forest'. It went something like this...

                                                    The Material Forest

Turning blind I lost my mind, and to the forest path I came
Enter here a sign said clear, and find yourself some name and fame
Without recourse I entered forth into that darkened atmosphere
And without delay I found a way that seemed to shed a light sincere

Everywhere I looked I saw a means to find security
The forest so large seemed to divulge a livelihood for eternity
I could satisfy myself in so many sensually pleasing delightful ways
In the forest there was room for all who want to live by night or day

With proper defense and protection plunderers were kept at bay
While my eyes and ears and nose and tongue and skin all have their say
After all who can deny the joy the senses really bring
If I took my share or a little more I could do most anything

But after countless lives that seemed so long I saw that next to right is wrong
And what had seemed eternal bliss became austerity on and on
I felt disturbance all around, frightened of the tigers and jackals
But what I really saw was no more than my family tying me in shackles

The forest, a playground of opulence, desires enticed and inviting
But as I turned away it went astray, around me coiled creepers tightening
I called out for a friend but in the end only attracted envious snakes
A friend in need is a friend unwanted, the forest means you give, I take

Then along came rats and beasts and vultures plundering all my possessions
For those who sin money runs thin, I entered into grave depression
All this aside I still tried to maintain my body and expand my home
For there are many poorer and phantasmagoria tells me I am not alone

Young enough to still persist, the taste for life I could not resist
And fun did come at times, though if truth be told, was just will o the wisp
But with wife standing by my side, like a whirlwind can't be denied
Her needs like fashion, change to passion, as husband I still felt pride

I thought I had good friends devoid of prestige and pretence
But when my back was turned they yearned to stab it in my absence
The trees seemed to represent a piece of mother nature's beauty
But the majority are harsh and devoid of any real piety

Then I built a cottage by the river, much opulence it did deliver
But as time went by the river ran dry, just another Indian giver
In the material forest wherever I went the people formed a government
And tormenting demons feasting on flesh unto the highest posts ascent

I had thought to frolic in the woods and lounge about on royal lawns
But there were so many unseen obstacles pricking me like thorns
I had chosen a wife so young so nice who seemed to be a benediction
Then I saw like flies a thousand eyes, cursing, causing such restriction

I looked toward the crows and vultures to try to learn some relaxation
But they were insignificant pretenders, natures bogus incarnations
The monkeys seemed to live a life free from prestige and pretending
But really only eating, sleeping, mating, and defending

So my time was spent in such torment, but taste for life was not all spent
Until one fateful day death came my way, I was crushed beneath an elephant
Yes it's a sad story but I must insist, the material forest does exist
And while we are here the message is clear, diversions form an endless list

But then I woke up and looked around, it was just a dream I had discovered
Teaching to rise up from slumber until the soul becomes uncovered
So after countless lives of ignorance no longer do I need to roam
In the forest there's a narrow path that leads us to our real home...