What The Difference Point of View Makes: Friends, and Foes…
I have a friend of mines, we know each other’s from childhood, that is, I hadn’t seen him since high-school, since then we lost touch; sometimes just after graduating. We used to walk a lot, in a group, wherever we go to see a movie or just to sit in a café, or to the park. And we had always conversations, usually after a movie or any things that bring to our attention, sometimes stirring conversations, never too serious but often we terminated that by a good barrel of laughs. But there is one of them that I missed a lot, the most, he was my buddy, we always stick around with each other a little longer after the group had left and went home, to continue our small talk to a late hour.
Then, I recalled a situation in which we held, some sort of, a deft dialog: we were sitting in a café, having coffees or tea, an empty brown bag creased on a table neglatedly facing us, among other things. Then, the shape it took gave an undefined image, and here it went; we started arguing about what one could see through the image, so that I interpreted it, I said that is was a brown bag reader.
So it all followed like this, more or less:
“You asked me to lend you my imagination.”
“Let me let you know first, my dear friend, it’s like a half-tamed stallion, before you ride on, that she is always at a gallop, still half-tamed. It took me too long to get along with her.”
“So” he said. “So, I said, Before anything, I had to seduce her, to cajole her dreams. We have been too often to reconcile with each other; she was always in departure, when I was just arriving. But little by little, I arrived, with time, to capture her want; to deal with one of hers a such fancy caprice of the moment, and to pardon her for being whimsical. Because, she was always in a stirring conversation with my muse, while I had to focus on my writing, so I am used to it now, and let her do her busy chit-chat, while I doodled on a blank page.”
“Wow wow, wow, tell me more,” he said.
“One day, ( I was a flight-attendant, then in my early career, ) in a trip I saw a yogi, sitting always at the same place, in a profound contemplation; he had a monkey who was busy going up and down, from the shoulder of the yogi to the ground, back and forth, while he was sitting, imperturbable in plain meditation.”
“The other day, when passing by, I found the monkey leashed to a post, and doing the same manège, whilst the yogi was sitting aside, paisibly immersed with his tranquil thoughts. I waited patiently nearby, until he drew back from his profound lethargy. Then, when I asked him humbly why he leashed the money to the post, out of knowledge he told me, confessing that he considered his companion’s own state of mind with respect, and when he realized that his mind was also busy observing the monkey, and that distracted him from meditating, so he attached the monkey to a post and left his mind occupied by the monkey doing, and went back to his meditation. From then, I had a good lesson. Mind mine own business.”
” Ha, ha, Now, I understand, you have really a galloping imagination.”
I am an autodidact writer, and enough an artist to draw upon my imagination, when unleashed, You see, you can’t go nowhere too far with her, maybe she can take you for a ride just down the street, but then she dis-saddled you right away when she became aware that you’re taking here somewhere too far, and don’t let you go with it; because she is my imagination.
Then, he said, it’s a lie, the truth is, “it depends of the point of view in which side where you stand”
I told him: ” you don’t have to believe me, but I asked you just to listen to me.”
I am enough an artist to draw up on my imagination. Imagination is more important then knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world.
And, again I added;
“Give me a fulcrum , and I will lift off the world”_Phitaghoras
After that we closed the chapter…we sat on a bunch and savored a sundae ice cream silently.