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Musings inspired by a post on Netrider “Planning my 1st solo trip!“
A little excited, a little intimidated…
It’s an interesting experience being alone, being with oneself, riding alone, just the grey snake and oneself, but then, are we ever really, truly alone? That voice inside, that consciousness etching new connections in our mind, the particles of life flowing past us as we fly on our carpet of air. The “oneself” is multiples of self, of consideration, of thought, of being – observing and feeling the flow, becoming part of that flow, existing inside the flow, outside, within.
…continued from netrider.net.au…
Feeling. In your lid no one can hear you feel. But you can. You feel everything. Everything. Every nuance of being, of your being. You feel the air, you feel the pressure of the wind, you feel the moisture, you feel the warmth, you feel the cold, you feel yourself, you feel others, you feel the others, you feel, you feel the cosmic adventure, and in your feeling you feel yourself completely, like no other has ever before. Alone but together. Inside your lid, inside the world and yet outside too. Your body extended, your you extended, enhanced by particles fused together into the machine, your machine, your extended you propelled by once organic and ancient lives compressed and distilled into your fuel, your power source, the power of these ancients exploding, escaping, driving you forward, flying. Flying on your carpet of air.
Flying. Flying across the landscape, directed by your grey snake, riding the ancient snake, riding to no destination, riding to the end, the end with no end, the end with no beginning, all the beginnings have ended and all the endings have now begun. You have always flown. Before flight you flew inside yourself, now you fly both outside and inside your self, this self, your extended, your enhanced self, your flying self. Your self has taken flight and swoops across the land, part of and yet not, part of everything and yet too disconnected, observing as well as being the observer. A strange juxtaposition that only makes sense while in flight, remembering dulls the feeling of flight, the intensity of that extended moment subsumed by later filtering of the mind.
Sensing. Sensing that feeling, sensing that being, you are in time again, within time and yet strangely outside time. Outside and yet inside, single yet multiplied, alone and together at the same instant. The instant that casts itself forward and becomes the instant in which you exist, have always existed. All your instances intermixed into the now, that now of the sense, of your sense, of your existence.
Seeing. You don’t sense the seeing, you don’t feel the seeing, you are the seeing. The all seeing flying sensing feeling being. At one. At one with your extended you accelerating and decelerating inside and outside your seeing being.
Being. Now, you are being, before you existed, now you are being, being in your existence.
The ride, the solo ride, the “alone” ride – nothing is alone about this ride. This ride is complete with everything and everyone that has ever existed or will exist. You exist in your existence and yet there is no event horizon, no point of no return, this is one continuous single moment of extended time, single yet continuous, alone and yet together, of the ride, of riding, of one self.
Ride the snake, ride the wind, be the wind, be the snake.
Sunday, 28 April 2019.