I am indebted to Mark Spirtos who inspired this conversation.
I finally figured it out. I've been living in the question "Is there
such a thing as possibility?". Or, said another way, "In
my life is there possibility? ie does possibility exist?
And if it does, is its nature permanent? ie does it last?".
This is what I've come to: when I wake up in the morning, I wake up
into a world of no possibility.
Now ... if you heard resignation in what I just said, if
you heard me saying I'm resigned, you didn't get it. Neither is
there one trace of negativity or pessimism in what I just said. Rather,
waking up into a world of no possibility is the empowering
truth for my life. And except for the fact that I haven't
asked you and every one of the other seven billion people alive today,
I'd be willing to bet that's also how you and everyone else wakes up in
the morning: into a world devoid of possibility.
Why is that? On what basis can I make such a grandiose, sweeping
generalization? Furthermore, on what basis can I assert there's no
resignation, no negativity, and no pessimism in saying I wake up in the
morning into a world of no possibility?
The basis of my assertion is if you wake up into possibility, then
whatever it is, it's not possibility you're waking up into. It may be
anticipation
you're waking up with - but it's not possibility you're waking up into.
It may be a positive attitude you're waking up with - but
it's not possibility you're waking up into. It may be hope or
optimism you're waking up with - but it's not possibility
you're waking up into.
Possibility is an invented space. It comes to be only
inasmuch as I create it ie only inasmuch as I invent it coming to be.
Unless I invent possibility, it's simply not there. Possibility
goeswith being invented (as
Alan Watts
may have said). If that's a given (and for
this conversation it is) then it's true the world you and
I wake up into in the morning is devoid of possibility. Possibility
doesn't exist out there in the world. Possibility is
always and only mine for the inventing. Possibility is always and only
mine for the calling forth. It's always and only mine for the
granting to be.
The next cut, the next take on the invention of
possibility is this: if you invent possibility then let it be without
ongoingly reinventing it ie without inventing it again, it disappears.
Sorry about that, but that's the way it is. Man! I wish it weren't this
way. Sometimes I wish I could invent possibility only once,
invent it reallywell, then leave it alone and
have it always be there permanently, a full tank of gas
which, once filled, always stays full, always driving my life, never
needing topping off or refilling ever again. When I get stuck in that
rut of wishful thinking, I remind myself it's not only
naïve - it's actually irresponsible too.
So what, then, is the space I wake up into if it isn't the space of
possibility? The space I wake up into is the space of the
possibility of possibility itself. It's always possible I can
invent possibility. But possibility doesn't appear by itself, and
it doesn't persist once invented, by itself. And it
doesn't exist by itself out there in the world. For all
intents and purposes there's no such thing as possibility
out there in the world. If I don't invent it, there's
simply no such thing. And if I don't re-invent it, it
disappears, it doesn't persist, it's not permanent.
There's no
resting on
laurels
either in this regard. Inherent in any great act of inventing
possibility is the potential for it to be the last great
act of inventing possibility. Possibility, once invented, doesn't
persist. Possibility, once invented, immediately starts disappearing.
Eventually it disappears entirely unless it's kept in existence by
being reinvented ongoingly. In other words, possibility has a short
half-life.
It's more than that actually. You could say if you invented possibility
once and it lasted forever, whatever it was you invented wasn't
possibility. The very nature of possibility requires you invent it
again and again and again over and over and over ... again and again
and again ... and then some more.
Once you get it, the possibility of possibility itself
will keep you up late at night and drive you out of bed early in the
morning. I assert it's the opportunity to invent
possibility which is at the heart of what it really is to be
a human being. With it, it's an extraordinary life. Without it, if you
tell the truth about it, frankly it's not even worth being human.
Without it, the best it gets is living life like a
robotic automaton, like a stimulus / response no
choicemachine,
like a cuckoo clock gonging and cuckoo-ing with clockwork until its
spring runs slowly, inevitably, and
inexorably
down. Without it, if you tell the truth about it, it's just not worth
it, it's just going through the motions, it's just getting
by. In fact, if you really tell the truth about it,
without it you're sleepwalking your way, resigned, through
life.
Waking up in the morning into the possibility of possibility
itself is the antithesis of resignation.