A couple times I’d prepared, within 30 or 40 seconds before the 5:00 minute mark on the countdown, to give the “You have 5 minutes remaining on this section” announcement and then forgotten when the time got closer. C___ was the “Room Monitor”—I was technically the “Proctor”—and she did the announcement once and she reminded me a couple other times.
I’d feel this was a sign of bad (or worsening) memory except that I don’t think that’s what was happening. I think this was one of those situations where I’m a new mind at each moment of consciousness—that I awake with a new mind, and that new mind doesn’t include the old mind’s thought/intent. By “waking,” what I mean is that each crystallization of a new thought (an image/metaphor I’ve used before) is a new mind, is a new moment of consciousness. Each thought is a new mind, rather than a mind having/hosting/birthing a thought.
Shoot, I had another thought I had wanted to write—but then, as I just wrote, my mind awoke to/crystallized around a new thought (in a new moment, or just a new moment?) and that previous moment’s mind is gone—and yeah.
I see pinkish-orange (quite pastel) stripes across the northeast sky. I pulled a journal (#205?) from March 2015 to read while I pooped this morning. It’s chatty, not super intense or direct-to-the-point (whatever the point may be). But that chattyness is what makes the journal seem intimate.
[From journal of Weds., 10 April 2019, Journal 299, page 189-90]
MonkeyMoonMachine 