[MD] Ham thinks the MOQ Is a form of phenomenalism

[Heather Perella]

Hello Ian,

     [Ian]
> Ah yes Marsha, but it's a box with its own in-built
> means of escape to
> ever higher quality. Dynamic quality and levels of
> evolution, rather
> than a fixed set of traditions defined by the box.


     Exactly Ian.  Here's another one.  Do we forage
the woods? or Do we produce the woods?  Are we
foragers or producers?  In other words, since my view
may not translate very well I'll try to bridge it with
this, do we come up with all of this and believe that
what we are thinking to be the end all to all about
the world?  Do we come up with this Mind-structure of
ideas, theories, and all kinds of constructs that will
match a rock?  When I talk about rock, never, ever,
will a rock come out of my mouth.  Something is always
missing when we begin to listen ONLY to ourselves when
it comes to living.  It may fall along the lines with
what I've heard people say before such as, "What's
that have to do with the price of coffee?"  When we
build this structure with all this heady, brain power,
and only produce 'stuff', we don't forage anymore.  We
don't allow the universe to bring so much to our
attention, that upon reflection, we realize that our
thinking, our production, is idolized way too much. 
We give too much credit to our thoughts.  They
definitely help, and we never stop thinking (try it,
it'll never happen, thoughts always tend to come and
go).  Yet, what ever I may try to produce, think up,
with any code of art, will never match in color,
touch, and aweness what is brought to my attention -
all at once, as this earth and sky down by any creek
can offer.  Does this mean I stop producing any art? 
Heck, no, nobody can stop producing, yet, don't think
we don't forage to get what we need for production,
even angels are brought to my attention, so much is
brought to my attention on this earth with sky.  Even
originators dream this stuff up, they listen to what
is brought to their attention.  Don't get to heady,
for we need these woods bringing so much to our
attention more than we ever produce ourselves.  It's
just what happens.  I can't help that the woods bring
to my attention so much more than any human being
could ever single-handedly bring to my attention.  It
not only comes down to amount of 'stuff' brought to my
attention, but it's what all this at once brought to
my attention in woods does to me.  I wouldn't
experience anything.  I am the woods.  I am Spiritual
Adirondack, those mountains you know.  Without that
blue jay, would I have ears?  This world shines a
light, as a fire shines light in the darkness so I
still see the trees.  That's what the sun is, a big
fire, shining light upon the world so we can see this
world.  What about what I feel, and when the whole mix
of the woods with sun shining down, creek babbling,
the wind touches, this whole mix coming and bombarding
my attention.  This whole shabang is not words, and
can't be words, and thus, I can't put into words -
since I don't speak rocks coming out of my mouth! 
Sure words are here, we all speak them, but their just
words, narrating this story.  When we ask for eggs in
the morning, give somebody a handshake and say Hi, we
are saying something, but this world doesn't begin and
end inside of this skull and skin, oh, no, this world
is much larger than us.  It's that simple.


SA  

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