occurrent zwing-zwang

“It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.”
Duke Ellington & Irving Mills

Live life in the swing. Yeah.
At the end of a swinging session I do come to rest in the middle, in the stability of the equilibrium, to balance things out in my head.
But, to live my life, I believe I have to swing out.

Sometimes my swing goes right around and I’m back where I started, lumbered with some unwanted baggage picked up in the swing. Occasionally I get into these overzealous swings. They make me think, “WTF happened now?” The troublesome thing is: a round swing can last for years, — ouch.

My swings are multi dimensional and move in a zig-zag pattern. It is not a predetermined pendulum 2D swing like the tik-tok kind, but 3D and snaky and veering in motion: up and down, actually in all directions, and still leading forward, somehow. A kind of a pulsating swing invigorated by popping thoughts. Boi-ng, doi-ng, doi-ng, boi-ng…
To me that is a zwing-zwang, a zig-zag with wings. This type of swing experiences dramatic directional changes in motion but illogically stays zwinging until I settle in the middle again.

The more I zwing-zwang from one extreme side to the other edge in this 3D arena in my head, the more I invoke the potential to walk through the next door in my mind. One could call it psychic scouting down unexplored avenues.

Maybe to clear this increasingly confusing picture up: imagine life happening inside a ball, — the universe, your universe, — within which you zwing-zwang around (like a ‘mad’ (wo)man), looking for doors. That ball is also in motion. Balls always go forward. Any directional change of the ball (the life you are in) is forward or at worst forward to where you started. Notice the omission of the misleading word ‘backwards?’ You can’t go back because you are immediately confronted by time if you would try, telling you that travelling back is not in the big plan.

Anyway, behind the next door is a present I don’t fully know yet and another resting place. From there new reason will present itself to zwing-zwang again and find more doors.

When the doors close and the bridges collapse and doom and gloom besets me, I know I have to zwing-zwang more.

My swing becomes a jump without return (not back!), when I’m done. Like jumping from a springboard into a pool. The oscillating, rebounding board stops without me, the pendulum is still.

When I don’t perform the swing motion in zig-zag, i.o.w. when I don’t zwing-zwang, then I miss places in between which could be doors. The swing-less middle has no interesting doors, it consists of latent energy only, but it can swing me towards the potential, the doors.
Some doors exist where no door is required, like a door standing alone on a path in the mountains opening to the same view I already have.
Those doors serve as a pacifying reminder that there always is an entrance and an exit, which is actually a deception because there is no return (as has been clarified), but our belief tells us differently.

Where and when there are no doors, beware, there could be windows, very large ones, deceiving you into believing that you are free under an open sky.
Even an open sky can close in seconds, like a window shutting, and show you that you are always inside something, perhaps even point out how stuck you are there.

Therefore, there is great benefit and importance to vigorously zwing-zwang in life because that lifts you above the ‘inside,’ presenting you with doors and windows you might otherwise not find and enter and explore.
Once you are lifted above the inside you are suddenly presented with a rudder for your ball, like the foot or hand that has the ability to throw a ball in a chosen direction… forward.

“Finding your step in the swing is the purpose of everything.”
Raiden Germain

Advertisements

Beat the drum :-)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s