If I realized I was just "stuff"...

If I realized that for real, I am just..."stuff," I might not sit here trying hard to reconcile this thought, even though I am.

I want to sit here thinking that, for one moment, even though I know better, think that I am more than just the same stuff that everyone else is comprised of...in a biological way, that is, of course.

If, by manner of what I have read in terms of String Theory, it is the truth - that everything in existence is here by manner of these things called Strings (and some other things called Branes). Strings are what have brought us and everything that we see in the physical reality into our awareness. Pretty much, even though a lot of scientist type folks want to chalk us up to being like all of the other cuts of meat in the butcher's freezer, the truth is that while technically we ARE "meat," in a manner that no other meat on the planet knows, we are lots more than just meat, lots more than just "stuff."

I mean, think about it, if we are just..."stuff..." then why do we ponder other stuff, and more, why do we feel like we feel? Why does my cat feel like she feels? Why do my feet feel like they want to be pedicured, even though they rarely have shoes on them and don't truly give a shit either way as long as I watch where I step? (Perhaps they are feeling a bit ugly today, hmmm?) I mean, if we feel, and we are made of the same stuff that everything else is made of, according to all of those geek guys and Greek guys and all those other guys from then until now, is it at all possible that the guys who showed off their brilliance in thinking that we are "just meat", were they talking about the rest of the breathing population or were they including themselves?

I could go on and on about this whole, "meat," thing, but of course I won't, because there are so many other things that I could totally go on and on about. I could sit here, being my typically strange self, thinking that the Goddess will take care of all of those people wanting us to believe that we are just meat, but of course, apparently since the Goddess cannot be proved to be a tangibly real thing, the guys who said we are just meat would think that I were somehow being primed for my being fitted for my hot-pink straight jacket.

Of course, I could ignore the "meat" guys and listen to the "I am made of light" guys, which, really, I AM one of those "made of light" people, the people who have been accused wrongly of being one of Dionne's Friends. I could sit here and be very well upset at the idea that I do what I do and the rest of the thinking world believes me to be insane in the most lovely possible way (3 shrinks worth of insane, in fact) or I can sit here and conform my every thought to that of what the scientific world prefers that I believe, and after that thought, my only question is "why is it that, if I know all this science stuff, and I know all this ...weirdness...stuff...and both kinds of stuff is real to me, why does the world of science want to disprove me as being more than mere stuff?"

Because.

No one "science" wants to be wrong, or maybe they just don't want someone else to be right because that means that they have to share the lollipops in the box marked "right" rather than the turds in the box marked "not my idea so this means it is wrong." No one "science," maybe, is going to, according to all of this very old history stuff about the tiny stuff that is made up of tinier stuff that jiggles, agree with my thinking, and they don't have to think the same way that I do. No one has to do a single damned thing in terms of this stuff that I am supposed to believe is all that I am, all that we each and all are.

And really, that phrase "I Am" makes all the difference in the world. I AM stuff, but I am thinking stuff, and I am feeling stuff, and I am stuff that likes to choose - pink, or black? Pink or black what? Anything I want, that's what. I might well be "meat," in the "for real" way, but to chalk us all up to that thought? Really? I am pretty sure I would have a very hard time making Joshua and Richard at the Stater Bros. across the way let me crawl into the butcher's freezer just to prove my point. I...we...might be "stuff," and we might even be just "meat," but what kind of stuff, and what cut of meat? 

This sort of makes my brain itch in that, my ancestors were cannibals, and constantly jokes are made to me about this much of my ancestral origins, and if I am meat, on the one hand, does this not make me the expert on things that are NOT meat and really only just stuff? Could it be, for real, that because some people...you know...people who are now dead and gone and whose theories have either been proved or are still trying to be proved as our being more than just meat (couldn't resist) ... some people felt so very trapped in the cage comprised mainly of this very same meat, that they had to impart onto the rest of the thinking population, via the mechanism of their tiny sense of self...could it possibly be, at all, even in the tiniest, strings and branes and all those other things...could it possibly be that maybe they, themselves, had it out with their turn of the century girlfriend who said she wanted to be more than just being looked at that this...theory...about meat, came about? 

Think about it. Let your mind wander there. None of us were there when this theory came about. We don't know that a bunch of human males congregated one night, gossiping about the women in their lives to one another, sharing that one of these women told one of these men...the meat guy...that he made her feel like she was merely meat, like she had no feelings, no heart that could hurt, no emotional gauge by which she could measure how much of a moron this person really is? 

Or maybe it was because the meat guy thought this of himself, that he was merely just another one of his God's creatures, and in being so, he was also subject to being seen as but a snack for a giant jungle cat, a hungry bear, or maybe another human or even someone from a galaxy far, far away...

I don't know. I wasn't there. All I do know is that I might technically be just "stuff," and in a jungle cat kind of way, I, you, we ARE a delicacy, but, in life as we know it, we are far more than just stuff, way more than just meat. We are the sun and the moon and the stars. We are the laughter that is children playing tag, the cry of a newborn, the tears which fall in mourning our loved ones. We are the heartbeat of the love between two people, and we are the ire alive and well in warring nations. 

We are not just stuff. We are not just meat. 
We are the beginning and the end and everything in between. We are the count of 8, the uwehe, the 'ami and the 'ipu gourd drum beat beneath the wide and bright full moon. We are those who witness the sun as it rises, the moon as she shows her lovely face at night, the very stars as they wink at us from many, many moons ago.

We are far more than only stuff....way more than just...meat...