Laaaaaaangweilig
Geschrieben von Fleecer am 29. Februar 2004 17:37:18:
Als Antwort auf: Freiheit des Willens/Zukunft festgelegt und damit vorhersehbar? geschrieben von Fred Feuerstein am 29. Februar 2004 13:55:26:
Freier Wille ist ja ganz schön, aber wird es nicht irgendwann langweilig?
Das schneidet jetzt vielleicht ein *kleines* bißchen am Thema - so wie du es gemeint hast - vorbei. Dennoch: Was ist, wenn ich alles machen kann, alles haben kann, alles kriege? Irgendwann - ja, *IRGENDWANN* - wird es ganz einfach: langweilig.
Das einzige, was einem das Akzeptieren eines "großen Planes" erschweren kann, ist die Angst vor dem Tod, falls man eine solche hat.
Natürlich: ob du gestern Abend zwei oder drei Bier getrunken hast, das interessiert sicherlich weder Gott noch den Teufel ;)Ein Bericht eines erfahrenen "luziden Träumers", leider auf English, ich denke aber, er passt ganz gut:
Late one summer morning several years ago, I was lying quietly in bed, reviewing the dream I had just
awakened from. A vivid image of a road appeared, and by focusing my attention on it, I was able to enter
the scene. At this point, I was no longer able to feel my body, from which I concluded I was, in fact,
asleep. I found myself driving in my sportscar down the dream road, perfectly aware that I was dreaming.
I was delighted by the vibrantly beautiful scenery my lucid dream was presenting. After driving a short
distance farther, I was confronted with a very attractive, I might say a dream of a hitchhiker beside me
the road just ahead. I need hardly say that I felt strongly inclined to stop and pick her up. But I said
myself, "I've had that dream before. How about something new?" So I passed her by, resolving to seek
"The Highest" instead. As soon as I opened myself to guidance, my car took off into the air, flying rapidly
upward, until it fell behind me like the first stage of a rocket. I continued to fly higher into the clouds,
where I passed a cross on a steeple, a star of David, and other religious symbols. As I rose still higher,
beyond the clouds, I entered a space that seemed a vast mystical realm: a vast emptiness that was yet full
of love; an unbounded space that somehow felt like home. My mood had lifted to corresponding heights,
and I began to sing with ecstatic inspiration. The quality of my voice was truly amazing—it spanned
entire range from deepest bass to highest soprano—and I felt as if I were embracing the entire cosmos
the resonance of my voice. As I improvised a melody that seemed more sublime than any I had heard
before, the meaning of my song revealed itself and I sang the words, "I praise Thee, O Lord!"