There are places in the mind which so drift that
sometimes they become suspiciously vague. Those who live busily in
the present might think I am referring to Mondays. But what I refer
to is a shadow.
In Plato's allegory of the cave there is an understanding
of process. In this understanding there is that possibility that all
we ever see are shadows in a process of getting closer and closer to
I have long accepted that 'true' is a moving
feast. We sit at the table and eat and talk. Some listen more
than they talk. Some talk more than they listen. When we rise
at the end of the meal something usually gets done.
The study of process becomes necessary to successfully
formalize the social, make those changes to the word 'justice', allay the
fears of the potentially dangerous, feed the hungry and to every dream a
person could have. But the study of process remains insidious.
It is necessarily nihilistic, otherwise it would produce no wisdom.
Then there is skill, that relationship between
practice and the material world which produces a shadow, a vagueness in
which the process cannot easily be explained but it can be seen. This
is the shadow, the vagueness that makes things precious, or important.
But take this shadow to that table of the moving feast
and more often it gets lost, it becomes something else, it becomes part of
process so the nihilistic can destroy it. And here, I think I would be
called a cynic, until I begin to enjoy it enough to want to try harder.