96-hour days

I mean you read a lot. A hell of a lot.

One copy of yourself should be dedicated to reading 24-hours a day and provide feedback to yourself. It should then populate that infinite dormant memory in your head, indexing everything and getting on with it, ploughing through all that is readable and available, at thought-speed, — forget about sluggish light-speed, we have very (much) surpassed that.

You see a lot too. Maybe even more than you read. But, don’t underestimate the written word. With reading also comes seeing.

There is so much out there that you actually don’t have to think ever again. It’s all been said and it’s all been thought. And what remains, surely, is in a pipeline somewhere to be revealed shortly (on Netflix or some blog or in a pub).

And, the more I read and see, truly I feel, the dumber I get. Why? Because in some way by having all this input I don’t have any output anymore. I do, but it’s others’ thoughts, words and ideas.

I clearly know that I have to extend my 24-hour day. I have to create parallel days and still manage everything even if it is four-fold now. But, I don’t want to be a manager. No, shit no! I want to be involved in every little bit of those multiple 24-hour days, and I also want to get on with other stuff that interests me. I want to spend hours flying, soaring in the air, 3k feet above the ground, or landing in my neighbor farmers backyard on a penny for a cup of Wienermischung Arabica coffee. I want to immerse myself in music and play it and compose. I want to travel to every remote and beautiful corner of this magnificent continent called Africa in my Land Cruiser. I have a love affair with Africa and another one with another one. I have to create, split, multiply and slice the time I have available.

I literally have to drag myself away from the latest doing, reading and seeing, — which I am blatantly honest about, is all extremely enjoyable, — back into my chambers, close the door behind me and open the one in front of me. The one that opens into my world from my mind. You see, here goes another 24-hour day.

My function in life, — having come to this astounding realization of the ninety-six hour day requirement, — is not to write more initially. We have agreed that there is too much already for the twenty-four hour limited human being.

We have to find ways to condense time, expand time, multiply time, fornicate time, forget time, — ignore it, any which way, — and get more done in the moment of life we have so we can absorb, digest, create more and become infinitely more of ourself.

What other point could there conceivably be to continue with life once such a revelation has shone upon us, but to invent new methods and aspire to hitherto unknown heights of accomplishing the impossible?

Do you really want to slip back into your twenty-four hour drudge-day which practically gives you perhaps two hours to do your stuff, instead of figuring out some multi-parallel reality?

Fine, go for it. You won’t find me in that asylum.

Yes, there are schools of thought that we should do one thing and one thing only at a time in order to do them properly. (utter rubbish loser talk) Admittely, I have tried and I have made a mess of it. My first novel, a fictional memoir called ‘beyond Cloudia,’ touches on the subject. And, there are always those ‘I told you so’ encouraging cheer leaders. Instead of getting multiple things done, nothing was finished, except the bottle of red wine or the J, in the end. That however is no sentence not to try again, more evolved, and with better or more Jwine. I don’t smoke so there is no J in my wine.

The current steam locomotive of progress has become terribly, frustratingly slow and this has watered the seed for further exploration into the matter of parallel 24-hour days, or, at least one ninty-six hour day to start with.

Very few things, if any, have ever worked the first time around. How many rockets have gone up in smoke? Right. We have to start somewhere.

I think we have to be blind movers sometimes, believing that our movement gets us there, although we can’t see it, or explain the logic behind our (absurd) behavior .




of über-super-consciousness

Would you believe that every once in a while something happens in our life that was born in another reality and filters through into our present-now?
Unless you experience such a contact from the ‘other’ side you could, like me, be largely ignorant of its existence.

What is another reality, if, as we have been taught, there can only be this one?
All my life I have been puzzled by deeper questions which just like my attempts at Rubik’s Cube, have gone unsolved and unanswered by me. And then, one day, you are presented with an indisputable event.

Reality is where I am conscious. Right? Actually yes.

I have irrefutable proof now that there is more to consciousness than I have ever considered it to be. I know it’s lame and scientifically worthless. However, this illuminating experience has made me a convert.

Being so entrenched and absorbed in our reality, where is there time and the will to think about such ‘far-out’ stuff? It’s hard enough to get through another day.
Well, yes. But, amongst everything we do, our thinking occasionally does venture to the fringes. Often that process is advanced by the consumption of some substance(s). However, just to clarify the situation, this is not the case here. I am not criticizing those who do, but, I cannot be both a pilot of an aircraft and a substance user because I need full control of my faculties.

It was a dream and like all of us, I have had many dreams in my life. You wake up and most of the time the dream is quickly forgotten. Nightmares linger on for a bit. A few dreams stay with us for days because of their profound effect.
This dream, as surreal as it seems, has launched an avalanche of deeper questions. Not that I was suffering from a lack of questions or a void of thought material. No, the opposite, but I am now pushed purposely in a direction which was not highlighted so prominently before.

Here goes:
There is another reality, in parallel, where we are also present and cognitively aware and consciously interacting with other (human) beings who we absolutely do not know in this reality: Names of people we have no connection to in this life; dealing with things we have never considered dealing in, in an environment that is foreign to the one we frequent. (This could explain the sheer exhaustion we sometimes inexplicably feel.)
For instance: In this dream, I was mentioning to someone called Ian that I have a Jaguar engine in my store room for his Jaguar. In the dream, I was on friendly terms with Ian, and Sarah and others.
This dream episode does not fit into my life in any way. I don’t drive Jaguars, never had and don’t have any engines either. And Ian, well, pleased to meet you, and Sarah too.
Wow, I do live a whole other life it seems.

Like with any dream, if you don’t catch that tail-end fast enough it disappears out of memory leaving only the impression that you had a ‘cool’ dream, but can’t remember what it was about.

This dream invigorated my thinking and anchored a notion that there is more that we are involved in than with our five senses only. It brought into perspective a concept in my mind that, as we gain greater consciousness, we also realize that we are in more than one place at once. Extrapolated to the extreme, — to limit the size of this post and cut to the scoop — we could be (are) everywhere. In essence saying, that because we are part of everything, we are also present everywhere. This awakened consciousness confronts us with that broader reality and we now see life from that realties’ perspective. Our enlarged consciousness now dawns on us the whole bigger picture as more awareness is assimilated.

There are so many connotations. Next time you do something bear in mind that you could be inflicting something upon yourself because you are part of everything. You are also part of some stuff you don’t like. I don’t know how that works exactly but the idea certainly comes to mind and the willful force to change it. I think as our consciousness grows it could be like a magnet or a strong current aligning everything in a ‘good’ way. Huh, hopefully.

Consciousness is the totality we are. In our mind, we frequently separate and isolate ourselves from everything and everywhere. Supreme consciousness leads us to become Übermensch (to borrow from Nietzsche) and superman (to borrow from Sri Aurobindo).

I think I think, I think.

Man cannot be final, he is a transitional being; his imperfect life and consciousness must develop itself into the type of the fully conscious being, after man or out of him must be born the superman.
Sri Aurobindo


Impassioned and dreamy to live,
the one-way lane to bliss

Drudgery and mundanity boredom gives

Failure be a toxic recipe
Mute, the soul seeks therapy

In passion lies life’s ecstasy

But what do you do if your passion doesn’t get you to that bliss?

You’ve immersed yourself in playing music, enjoyed every note, and you clearly don’t have it.
You write, you come alive, and you are mediocre at best, — on an inspired day.
You are painting and your art fulfills you like nothing else, and it doesn’t raise an eyebrow, least of all sell.

You do stuff that captivates and absorbs you, that you love, but never is there a financial reward or even a pat on the back.
You follow your passion constantly but you can’t make a living.

The search for a passionate solution is consuming you.

You are not level headed and will never be, — so help you gee oh dee.

You start doubting passion.
Something has to work, — desperately by now, and intrinsically you know it can only work if passion is present, yet it doesn’t happen.

You have more than one passion, oh definitely yes.
You are an appasionata or an appasionato.

You can’t find the One thing that tops them all.
Maybe you do but for whatever reason, you have to find the next best.
Can there ever be a next best? Will passion tolerate being ordered, sorted, prioritized, delayed?

You think you know what your passion is and where it lies, but, you also think you don’t.
Sometimes you even think: “What is passion? What am I passionate about?”

You back off because your passion is too far fetched. It surpasses even your belief with its imaginative enactment.

You question if passion is maybe the devils trick to lure you into his quarters and then again you think it’s a God given gift.

You ponder the idea that it’s too late to follow your passion.

Disillusion and disappointment mount as passion eludes you. Resigned, life becomes dull and thoughts start flirting with a philosophical question.

You always thought that passion was the only real certainty worth pursuing and now you are the laughing stock of all your ghosts.

Are you the doomed one?
Are you the example that others use to point out the senselessness of trying to follow one’s passion(s) instead of doing something ‘real’?

Should one perhaps pair one’s passion ‘to do something’ with one’s fascination ‘of something’? Could the search then be finally over?

amongst all the noise we create,
we don’t hear the divine music within.

high, deep, far

there is no great introduction here, the question is:

What is it that had the greatest influence on our (collective) human development?
Let’s use the past as if it was a puzzle to solve, and apply acute cognitive (self) observation to answer this.
Look high and deep and far.

Wherefrom cometh that intuition to act in a way that is most beneficial to our human progress?

How long should we look back in time into the human past?
So far back, obviously, that we get a clear picture of the energy that was responsible for igniting the flurry of human progress that we are experiencing.
Are one hundred years enough? Perhaps? Will that show what principles and ideas are at work pushing the frontier of our human ability and knowledge with such devoted pace and resilience?

Progress is born out of the notion that when you think hard and long enough about any idea in your head, you will be required to manifest it.
So beware when you dream something up. Progress directly comes from doing that dream.
We humans also think? and insist that we have a choice, before the almighty unknown, as to what we do and how we react to something.

“We have! Don’t panic.”
This pacification tagline pronouncing that we have a choice has become the most sought after slogan wrapped in legal controversy on the advertorial altar, unobtainable even by the rarest jewels of judiciary brilliance.
“We have! Don’t panic” is (pro)claimed by moi.

We have an idea. We drop the idea.
We have an idea. We drop the idea.
We become an idea. The idea takes control and fuels itself.
It is always good grounding to know what the original question that brought the idea about was. That’s the idea’s manifest of its purpose of existence.

So what had the greatest influence?
Which propellant in the evolutionary cocktail kick started humanity into this dynamic era of modern day with so such vigor and intensity?

Did we arrive at a philosophical vertice-verge-corner, this very privileged viewpoint into existence, and from there the vision became clear?
Were we ignited to become the deities of our destiny by the words of the great philosophers, thinkers, and gurus?

Art is the hatching egg of creativity.

Something crystallized into focus and reflected into irresistible action.

What was that ‘thing’ that got us humans so frenetically deliriously going, when in comparison the stone-age must have lasted forever?
Can we go back to try and understand what energy that was, and what fed it?

Living life, – with ever greater awareness?

That nearly sounds hedonistic with a paradisical encore.
Addictively, good-feelings must have a lot to do with celebrating our humanity in imaginative ways.

Eventually, the momentum demanded a certain backbone structure to progress with ever greater speed.
This necessitated communication between parties that was faster than the Inca runners (Chasquis) or horseback messengers so we could organize parties for even greater celebrations in even more imaginative, fascinating ways of paradisicality.

Was the need for communication then the trigger?
Was the requirement for tranporting ‘stuff’ becoming a high-profile issue?
Surely communication and transport have catapulted us forward letting us implement our grandest ideas like none other?
As one part grew others followed to make the whole work.
i.e. agriculture, food science, textile, manufacturing, medical, academic, scientific, engineering, technological, financial, software, … all these parts were infected with tremendous growth and they contributed significantly in rolling the ball of progress faster and faster.

What are the one or ten that stick out as the greatest influencers?

There was a sudden rising awakening that we could do anything if we really tried. As if intrinsically sealed in some covenant.

Communication today: satellite, radio, 4K 3D TV, smartphones, books, the internet, tablets, video’s, gigabyte transfer rates and terabyte volume, must have been difficult to imagine in 1917. Communication is all encompassing and has mutated into something incredible and indispensable.

Communication has brought us together and transportation makes the experience tangibly real.

Our achievement on the transportation side is bespoke spectacular, breathtaking, beautiful, incredible… We are superstars in the transportation field and data transportation is crazy-frigging-unimaginably-ginormous and has by far the largest demand.
On earth, you can have something delivered to your door within 12-48 hours from just about anywhere. By plane, ship, car, truck, bike.
You can drive a blow-my-hair-back Italian sports car and your partner can drive the German version of ‘ein wildes Auto,’ tamed to respond, oh ja, like crazy artworks from a thesis project of motion.
And don’t get me started on airplanes, these graceful creatures of our meta-imagination.
Any motion that transports something could be viewed under the heading of transportation. Deliberate transport only, please.
A private jet in transportation is like an island in real estate, a yacht is like a ranch.

Transportation and communication are more than roommates. The one without the other is unthinkable and inseparable.
They are vehicles of imagination.

To answer the question one would have to look back, see the stuff that stuck out and that made an impact and imagine the future along this line and trend.

What is next?
Imagine and predict from vision.

Here is where it gets interesting.
We are in a position to deduct, predict, postulate, even imagine, based on data from the past.
Each individual of us can formulate his/her future by looking back and imagining a path.
Of course, the future is unpredictable but it is a guaranteed given and we can influence it.

If we don’t know the ‘what’ and ‘where to,’ which many of us don’t, then the past might give some clues how our pudding of reality should be like.
Sweet, no?
Anything to do with communication or transportation has amazing potential. Elon Musk thinks so too.

make it real

As if something touches me, it's how I feel
There's nothing I can see –

A week ago my life aligned, 
 I penetrated a wish of mine
 A willful effort gave it life
 carved from my dreams to rise

Perfumed like rainbow candy is the air,
 my nostrils seek the whispering wind 
 Like spumy foam of rose and honey my thinking thinks –
 Effervescent, present ever this affair 
My spirit lifts and floats away,
 unconfined this day
On the brink of real and magic
 my mind dwells,
 fluttering its wings to a broomstick's spell 
 Passion-power, imagination,
 mojo fuelled with elation,
 fondness for the sky,
 I am on the fly!

The wheel then turned
 Today-o'clock is present time
 Loud rings my chime again
 proclaiming: another wish affirmed

Today is real 
 as true as now,
 the pain I feel,
 and what I miss
 and what I see
 and consciously allow
This very wakeful moment
 a torch into my memory shines
 Archive of the past, 
 like an empty bottle reminding me of wine
 Sweet though it was, bubbly and alive,
 that flight has landed, – now I drive

Part of this moment
 in the future rests,
 inspired by the past
 It visualized and learned
 Towards the light it yearns,
 then takes to flight once more,
 leading to my heaven's door
T'is not the last time
 that I'm flying higher than the stars
 Climbing, reaching further and afar
 Sending rhyme and prayer to the lofty shrine
 When I'm flying, paradise is mine

Something touches me, it's what I feel
There's something I can see – 
I think I'll make it real

turbulent saudade

Verandah rain

Ver and Ah

Like a thousand times before in my life, I stood on the verandah.

I overlooked a flourishing green garden that could creditably claim the term ‘Lebensraum.’ An Olympic stone throw away gaps between the trees provided glimpses of the mountains in the distance.

One could mistakenly say that I was looking, but I wasn’t entirely just seeing something ahead of me. It was a seeing, – but more in a knowing way seeing in my mind, – all that what was around me, even assuming a deep metaphysical dimension too. I saw with my mind’s eye, – that eye, which adds imagination to vision, – in parallel to my real eyes that were somewhat inexplicably staring in a removed way, out of focus from reality.

A pronounced and conscious experience of the present unfolded itself. An enamored bond, – of having been here in this exact location a thousand times before, thinking similar thoughts, – enacted itself like a ritual. A magnetic attraction to a place of origin pulled me along.

In case you wondered, I was not having the cognitive experience of let’s say a visitor who comes with a fresh, curious and receptive look.

I was in reflecting mode and felt encouraged with hope as I stood on the open verandah, refreshed deep down into my soul by the view directly into nature. However, I was also prone to flooding by emotional thought drowning from the weight of the intensity of my imagination reliving events.
At the opposite extreme was a determination and belief that my reality is adjustable to my wishes and dreams, perhaps whims too, if I can only get in touch with this inner being called ‘Life.’

The land of nature presented a captivating view.

Grass spread like a living, deep-pile carpet towards bushes and shrubs giving way to trees sloping gently down towards a river hidden from view. There was an un-invaded openness and the occasional hill posing like a sentinel, – guarding the dragon mountains that pronounced themselves behind the horizon on a background of the deepest blue sky, smudged with white blobs and the dew point flirting with ambient temperature in the creation of a baby called Rain.

An inner turbulence of Saudade, – a melancholic hue with a cloudy patch of shadowy sadness and an indeterminate incompleteness, was in abstract contrast to the warmth and light of the late summer’ midday.

The summer-rain latitudes express boundless gratitude with profuse growth and breathless beauty in nature. A thousand colors pinked and perfumed with Double Delight and Mint, with touches of plumbago blue, bottlebrush red, cumulus white and Chinese-lantern orange, escalating into undocumented green presentations beyond the scope and comprehension of mere definition. Thoughts were punctuated by the melodious call of the Black-headed Oriole and the announcement of the Red-chested Cuckoo with long moments of haa-haa-haa-de-dah of the Hadeda’s, awakening the last slumbering senses.

Memory was choreographed against a scenery of unrestraint growth painted with the tincture of eons of existence and strains of loose imagination. Events re-lived themselves as if their stories had to be highlighted once more and gain attention, connecting the thread of existence with the fabric of eternity, materializing in this unique present. An invitation to re-read the past with the lantern of ‘now’

(‘now,’ this whole, current cognitive, conscious awareness experience a human has: re-inventing itself periodically through subconscious actions on a different level to the physical, with emotional, compassionate and passionate growth)

illuminating pages hitherto less exposed, their meaning obscured until now, as the dots of life started connecting through lines: revealing a path, pointing to a purpose, exposing a gift, – presenting a meaningful picture that quite naturally highlighted and indicated a preference. The invocation of one’s creative spirit in a way that kindles meaning and brings benefit and pleasure to all concerned.
(There are many rituals, ideas, substances, practices to invoke the spirit – ideally find your own)

Everything rhymed in colorful poetry as nature’s hormones reacted to a dose of growth-vaccination in the form of heavenly water.

Remembering became an act of adding content to what seemed an immutable forest on the canvas of life by superimposing events sometimes so grossly out of touch with the underlying reality that they created a contrasting inset of disharmonic visual irritation. When the drive to understand life is also an incognito mission to retain sanity, then answers are essential for maintaining stability. They provide views through a stabilized gyroscope in the turbulence of Saudade. Answers are the voices in our silent universe of thought and they are the conversation that leads to more enlightenment and knowing.

For the 1001’s time I am standing on the verandah, – once again looking for knowing and starting the ritual from the beginning, accompanied by a deep sense of feeling.

Mel an’ Choly

in the gap of the spectrum


I am talking about reality.

After spending my life living with it, and more often than is sane, pondering it, I think I have it. The answer to it.
Reality is a loaded Latin word, heavy with meaning. It is the default movie on our life’s channel and a description of an experience that is our view through a gap in the spectrum.

A gap?
Yes, a break or a hole through which we can venture into experience. In thought, in physicality, with our senses, observing – any which way we want to. In the gap is where the juice is.

The spectrum?
Just like, for instance: color is only a range of frequencies we perceive visually (the color spectrum), but that is part of a much wider range of frequencies, – hence the term spectrum. Our reality, this gap-reality I am referring to, is a piece of something that is bigger, but that has been limited in various ways down to our eventual perception and belief of it.

And that is all fine. If you are all fine with your reality.
But, what if you’re not? What if you want to change it, – but it doesn’t change? i.o.w. you are always seeing and experiencing the same reality and you want to adjust it now.

Why are we humans all herded towards a similar gap in some way or other?
Undeniably there are vast extremes just in that gap. There are many similarities and there are considerable differences between my gap and your gap experience. Still, I would like to see the spectrum as a range of infinite possibilities stretching along seemingly endlessly.

Sometimes I think I have the answer, but it sounds very much like Russian roulette. It is built on the theory of trying, – until I hit that dream reality I wish for, – or I perish in the process. However, I fear there are many misses. It’s an altogether senseless approach with a fantastically small chance of success. What it does indicate, is a desire, partly fuelled by frustration and a lack of patience, and no clue how to go about it.

Work hard. Pray hard. Believe hard.
Those are also well known and oft quoted, apparently reliable methods of adjusting the momentary (life-long) gap-reality.

Keep on dreaming. A good one, but in isolation, it has no affect on the effect.

What you actually want is to take dreaming and add life to it, like you add water to a juice concentrate, and whallah, you have what you wanted.
The more life you add the more juice you have, the more OMG, the more whallah, the more satisfaction with life, the more the gap is filled with juice.

If water originates from a fountain, (indulge my thought, I know about Osmosis) where then is the fountain of life?
Fountains are in the earth, the base matter of existence.
Could the fountain of life perhaps be with me?
I do think I am the base matter in my existence.

Then, seeing that life is not figuratively a fountain, but nevertheless, the crucial ingredient to add to dreaming to adjust the gap-reality and create juice, then how do we get it to flow, and flow in the direction of our choosing?
Otherwise what is the point if we can’t adjust the gap-reality? That would make us robots exposed to some programming of a programmer we can’t communicate with and a language we can’t learn. Again this option is most senseless to me.

So now I know that by adding life (water) to dreaming (concentrate), I will fill (with juice) my personal gap in the spectrum of availability, i.e. create, adjust, mold my reality.
Fantastic. Bombastic.

Remains only the question,

Life, what do you suggest now?

The answer forthcoming is the guidance that lets my life flow in the direction of my choosing.

“Life, what do you suggest now?” is the principle slogan in my latest book, “Intercourse with Life”.
Life is that companion phenomenon that is always with us, ready to answer any question, be it about health, love or direction.

Available at Smashwords and Amazon

Picture Credit:
Nikola Nastasic E+ Getty Images
 from reference.com

Whoman He

I don’t know what and when
It is all hidden in my pen
Memories of forgotten days
are mixed with fears
of future’s ways

And even if the sun shines bright
I might not realize that it’s light
The darkness just like fire spreads
The night is glowing cold, the black I dread
This is the story of my plight

A mind so bent a crumbled string looks straight
Nothing, clueless, lost, I wait
Sometimes my dreams dream that I elevate
another force inside then subjugates
I’m told my worries are man made

The coffee cold, unshaven, and the purse deplete
A worn old shirt that screams of ironing that it needs
A figure sculpted by the thoughts the mind conjures
and by all events that life endures
Continuously I seek and seek

In this reality the hundred meters that I see
must stretch out of necessity
beyond that mark towards my ecstasy
unless I cannot choose my destiny
But, how then could I be me

Why am I stuck as if I’m planted like a tree
Forever in one place, I cannot flee
When I was born what words were put into my crib
“Go sail the seas but finally we sink your ship”
In the clouds I want to be eternally

A told me that I should be B
C told me that I should be D
Eventually then when I was E
They screamed and said I must be G
I turned around and went to P
Flashed them a sign reversed the T
Now I’m the Cuban Susans Whoman He
Nothing, clueless, lost without a key
I am sinking in some sea

To the water I will eventually return
Humans decided that I needed to burn
So hot even my soul in smoke evaporates
Escaping from these dire straits
I will not be put behind some other gates
Spill me, let me take another turn


In or out of the box?

Should I think in or out of the box?

The box is really all that, which, if we could wrap it all up and throw it in a trunk, constitutes our life.
A trunk the size of a few furniture removal vans you say?
Exactly! However, …
What we have to do is to compress everything into thoughts. Yes, the Ford Mustang and the mansion and the aircraft and all our issues, alles, and pack them away into a trunk. And, while we are setting things up lets give this trunk an appealing name. I love the French language for its wonderful sounding words. I will put everything into a coffret. Bugger the trunk and the box.

So what is left? Me of course, but without all that ballast weighing me down. I have suddenly become liberated to soar detached as an observer and thinker.
Quickly, while soaring and thinking, I realise humanities’ emphasis and reliance on communication and knowledge.
Rapidly I see more stuff appearing in my mind eye. I see a more purpose built, indexed web emerging that enables me to extract required, relevant information in seconds.
I see people communicating without the need of a clunky, – albeit highly evolved since the Motorola brick of the nineties, – mobile device and that doesn’t require any hands. And no, definitely no, I do not see anybody walking around with a thing called an Apple Watch. Hell no. (I am fearful that Apple has lost their vision.)

The humanity I observe has snuffed that watch idea long ago, along with all these other obscure practices of scrolling, swiping, tapping, pinching, texting, and replaced it simply with voice control and looking. It even works while you are sitting in a movie theatre next to hundreds of other voice controlled devices or while you are driving a Harley Davidson through a park with a rock concert on the one side and Victoria Falls on the other. Activated by a mere whisper, – even if you feel you need to shout at it like most mobile users have the habit of punishing their loved piece of hardware, – and coded with your own special bio-chemical key, all you need do is talk, – and, look.
On the subject of looking, that’s where it all happens for most of us. What do you look at and what do you use to look?
Here’s what I see with all my ‘stuff’ packed in the coffret.

We’re about to see the next edition of Google Glass and maybe it might even be unveiled at Google I/O 18th May 2016. Sure, the first batch of Glass was a bit like the Motorola brick in a more subtle way, but it broke the news and the barrier of acceptance and laid a foundation towards a totally new concept, – a wearable computer with a heads-up display and voice activation bringing everything you have on a smartphone in front of your eyes. Tony Fadell is working on it. What was Sir Jonathan Ive working on again at Apple? Hopefully not another watch thingy.

I can actually unpack my coffret for now again. No need to soar and cogitate any further. The next life-changing device is so close you can even buy an older version of it on Amazon already. But, hold back for a while. There are some challenges. Nothing, I believe, that could not be solved in a fraction of time when I look at the last ten years of innovative technological thrust and the brains that are engaged to start that next almighty explosion of ‘omg i must have this thing or I’ll be such a loser.’

Battery life, what else? yawn, to this day remains the accompanying Comrade Nemesis. I am also so tired of hearing about it and the perpetual 30% improvement from release to release. How many percent was there in hundred again? Just flipping get it sorted out now! We’ve been hankering around that since forever. Give me something that runs out when I don’t need it and stays charged when I do. If I wear it it can charge by gyroscope or gravity or my pulse or light or something, cause I am alive and I move you know, so make use of it. Eye movement detection can be my enter key if I don’t want to talk all the time and like that I could scroll too and navigate for instance. I personally think glasses are cool, be it sexy shades or academic looking spectacles, whatever, and hooking up with fashion designers of eyewear is the way to go. If you run out of ideas or your development gets stuck put a project on Freelancer or Fiverr and pay a few well spent bucks for some out of the box, err coffret, ideas. There is a world of millions listening and it’s so simple to access and it’s bustling with ideas, it just needs to be tapped. Hello Google, Apple, …, there is your market research.

So after all that, is it in or out of the b.., ahm, coffret thinking that is required?
I think for us to make progress in leaps and bounds we need to understand the inside of the box and occasionally leave it behind.
It’s wonderful to dream up science fiction and gravity propulsion at +lightyear speeds but closer to the ground an inside understanding with an occasional outside view probably enables the best results.

The Z(th)en man

Not Zen. No. Then!

Then when…
Then while…
Then during…
Then before…
Then after…
Then rather…
Then never…
Then always…
Then perhaps…
Then if, then…
Then, then…
Then see…
Then now

Always then. – Never now.

My ‘then’ shield.
I retaliate with ‘then…’
  “Then, hah, watch out.”
It’s my secret weapon of escape from anything. The delusional ‘Then-blaster.’

“Hallo Mr Then-When-Do, time to meet Mr Now-I-will.”

‘But, if, then and when,’ mixed with ‘maybe and perhaps’ and a serving of procrastination and indecision will affect no change.
Tiny words that become my reason to remain inactive. It is fascinating how I can hide behind the ‘then screen,’ and actually justify my state of being. “Yes, then I will do something.”

Between then-bliss and then-hell is the fulcrum of my seesawing life where everything ceases and meditative balance reveals the ‘now.’ There is no ‘then’ in the now, there is Zen. This is the place where it all happens. This is the pumping heart of super-oxygenated life. Life is not when I fall of the bliss edge or into the hell abyss. Life is at the fulcrum and this is where it expands as much as I let it. I am my own rev limiter but my engine can’t over rev so why use it?

I know ‘then’ is an adverb but it doesn’t add anything to my verb called ‘Life,’ except when the ‘then’ becomes an instigator of action, a wake-up-call, now ‘then’ becomes a friend.
When ‘then’ takes me away from the now into ‘Thenland,’ pulling me from the present, it radically and immediately shrink-wraps my present and my possibilities.

Imagination is not ‘Thenland.’ Imagination is ‘Nowland.’ It is part of our ‘Land of Is’ that we create. We make it ‘Thenland’ because we say it is not reality. But I have just redefined reality and called it Fantality. I have expanded reality to be bigger, much, hugely bigger, and all encompassing far beyond the experience of our prime senses to the far reaches of our ‘ever-expanding’ imagination. Fantastic reality.

Go ahead try it and live in Fantality.
Forget ‘then,’ turf the word ‘limit’ and ‘boundary.’ Let them call you delusional. Fly on your broomstick and magic carpet. Soar your kite.

Thank you life, you rock!