Monad

It’s nearly 7 a.m. now when the sun throws itself above the eastern horizon, an hour later than when I first started paying attention in June. It rises 15 degrees or so further south, too.

The geese are gone. Which started me off on a long, fruitless meander: Is a large flock of geese one being, or the summation of 1,000 beings, neither or both? How can something that large alter course so quickly; on the other, perhaps only as one organism can the flock so quickly change path.

Because we cannot see a physical connection, we assume separateness; perhaps the connections of communication, of information, are as binding as those of chemistry and physics.

Of what being are we? A point of isolation, an observer, a slightly self-aware exchangeable part of a larger being, a temporary and disposable cell point of family or of church or of community or of a business or of a society or of a culture.

Are we but a transitory nexus of different sets, of different languages that overlap in infinitely many ways, a vibratory micropoint set atwang by interconnections far away and unseen? I could be good with that, too.

The sun breaks over the horizon further to the south today and far later than in June. Fall is here, the geese are gone, there is work to do and here I sit pondering vacuous philosophies, Leibniz and Whitehead, Goedell, Escher and Bach.