Do we impose our own glass ceilings on how we perceive?
Suppose the stratosphere of thought is not about “brains” but freedom from projection and fantasy? As we focus our attention to find so as not lose a self “who” quietly implodes, withdraws, like Eurydice upon Orpheus’ backward glance, the imagination masked by its self-prism divides an inner from an outer “space”, blocks vision, pollutes our perception, our experiencing-in-full for an ever-receding, illusory “identity”. Imploding attention is obsession, and despair. It is also the ordinary. Suppose the “technical” is tertiary, that intellect or vision, dull or sharp, blurs or focuses our immediate intuition after a projective self screens it — or — becomes “simply” a transparent consciousness of what appears (re: honesty). Like so many larks or eagles we hit a glass ceiling we alone impose. We assume our conclusion then work backwards. If we do not assume a self as a reified platform from which we intend — like the sun’s energy, resplendent and untiring, an earthly and an aerial (“panoptic”) view ever remains possible. Perhaps this is what we pine for in desire (earth) and in love (the sky) … the freedom to witness and participate in the universe?