Words as noise…bipolar as a prison of noise
I came across this quote in the book “The Way of the Human – Developing Mulitdimensional Awareness” by Stephen Wolinsky, Ph.D. It comes from the 10th century Siva Sutra and says “All bondage is caused by sound”. Stephen goes on to say “Why? Because sound creates letters, letters create words, words create ideas and ideas create belief systems, which, by their very nature, can only bind”.
I might ad that words create stories. When I enter psychosis, there are many stories circulating through and above my head. Some of them are about me, some of them are about events. They are all over the place and have a life of their own. Perhaps part of the problem is that I believe the stories and identify with them, even though they are only shadows and seemingly holographic projections. Why does my holographic projector story telling mechanism develop a life of it’s own? Why doesn’t it keep to the realm of dreams? Why does it feed me waking nightmares? I’m not sure. So much of it is words. Just words, which are sounds, that come from the ground of emptiness. Why do I run from sounds? Why are sounds so scary? Sounds are not always scary, so why to they turn scary or become scary for a time? Why do some of us have this sort of waking dream-nightmare process? What is it trying to say. It’s using sounds to tell stories, stories that are not true. Are any of the stories we tell ourselves true? Can any of them be proved absolutely? I can say that “I am”. To add anything else may be deluding myself. Even if some form of “I am this” or “I am that” were true, it may be false the next second. Is each arising second something entirely new, never to be grasped by hand or by word? Does watching require words? We may communicate with words what we see, but the words are not what was seen. Of what value are words. There seems to be a war of words within ourselves and then again even deeper below what we are conscious of. When the conscious words are brushed aside, the other deeper material may come bubbling out with such power that one can only believe it. It’s like a wave. Will there be another wave to ride out?