❓ This is the text with the theme of the 4rth autonomous interactive online meeting “Share*dots project”.
I invite you to this somehow “festive event” to celebrate together the passage to the New Year, with our hopes, fears, expectations, wishes, limitations and dreams.
⏰ FREE ADMITTANCE, ZOOM, TUESDAY 29 December 2020, 21.00-23.00 Greek time
code: 2203889580 pass: 56341278
[the meeting room will be open from 20.45 on Tuesday]
The meeting is addressed to anyone who wishes to explore its theme.
If you wish to participate, please keep in mind that you commit:
About the core idea of Share*Dots project and the other introductory videos – texts:
The TEXT (and the image)
introducing the THEME of this 4th Share*Dots project meeting is from my book: “Notes for you”
entitled: “Tastes of now”
Sitting on the sofa, she says to him, “Come and lie down, baby, lay your head on me, it’s all right.” He goes and lies down on his side on the sofa, vertically to her body, letting his right cheek nest on her lap. She gently caresses him.
As he lies curled, it is as if she contains the wholeness of him, even if they touch each other only through his right cheek nested on her thigh. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he whispers, totally surrendering, curling up even closer to her.
The situation is such that it allows for only warm sequences of memories to spring to his mind. Scenes from his distant past tenderly illuminate his present peaceful moment even more clearly, from their distant time.
Scenes that are as calm and as confident as is her hand upon his head.
Ahead, contented by the warmth of such a present moment, he sees a future shaped only from beautiful images – images that breathe in a very slow pulsation.
She yells at him hoarsely, “Get lost! You are despicable! Disgusting …” He responds from his deepest wilderness, in a hissing sound, throwing the words like daggers through his teeth. “You’ll regret it, you slut! You’ll see …”
The situation is such that in his memory, only scenes of hardness and frustration now spring from his distant past; they bite cruelly into his present as they produce threatening dark refluxes of agony and nothingness.
Ahead, his imagination can see only a short future: a future reaching only a few hours ahead and unable to hold anything other than himself nervously skimming his address book to find anyone available to offer him some comfort.
Because he already feels this: he will desperately need at least a chat, or some easy sex (even better), as soon as he gets away from this appalling shrew.
In the context of a warm hug, the past and the future may acquire a certain taste. In a forthcoming separation, quite another. Neither of the two tastes is more real than the other one.
The same applies to any other potential taste belonging to the moments of our lives, because our past and our upcoming time could be seen as two cones.
One cone would be our already experienced life, and the other our anticipated life. The first cone stretches into the infinite foggy past, behind us.
The second stretches into an infinite foggy future in front of us. However, the two cones always blend their peaks at a minimal point: in our flowing Now.
Moreover, both cones display exclusively those areas of experienced and anticipated life that our very specific Now needs to see.
In other words, from the perspective of each specific Now on our timeline, whole slices of our past and future times remain darkened because they do not need to be visible from this or that specific Now.
However, it is this selective perspective on our past and future that permits our Now to move to its next position, from which a new selective perception of the wholeness of our lives will develop, and so forth.
Whatever we do, however confused we get, our Now has an incredible ability; on each occasion, depending on how and in which situation it is born, our Now is able to use the same raw material (our unique and precious life) in order to produce a new version of our history and a new prophecy about our future.
In other words, our Now is able to compose different reflections of ourselves in our past days and different potential images of ourselves in our days to come.
He falls asleep in her warm embrace. Or he angrily slams the door behind him. In either case, the Now moves on, to its next position.
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