Found: Meditations on Rag-Wool Gloves

I found these thoughts written on the blank back pages of a used copy of Hermes Trismegistus: Truth or Source of All Truth?.

“October 29
I just went looking for my gloves. I have two pairs. One is the pair that I don’t give a handful of deer-droppings about. (Don’t worry about the handful; I’m wearing gloves.) They’re black Thinsulate gloves. The other are these fingerless gloves which have a flipbackable mitten flap. It’s the glove equivalent of the flip-up shades that convert normal glasses into sun(glasses). They’re rag-wool gloves, an oatmeal color. I love them. They’re cheap. There’s nothing special about them except that I get to indulge my childhood whim of fingerless gloves without sacrificing the sensibility full-finger covering mittens. It isn’t that I simply use the rag wool gloves more. Both pairs have their use. Black Thinsulate gloves: used for heavy snow interactions (shoveling, sledding). Ragwool gloves: looking great and feeling fabulous.

What if our desires create vortices around the things we love. What if my desire for my rag-wool gloves attracts the notice of other forces in the universe, causing them to desire the same thing? What if those forces lead to one of my rag wool gloves going missing? Sucked up by the world that is within this world, further in.

My love for the rag-wool gloves creates a gravitational field around them. Other forces (cosmic, supernatural, household) desire them, because of my desire for them. It’s like how the sun bends space. Massive objects cause space to bend around them, and the result is gravity. My love for a given thing causes a pool of gravity around that thing, which causes the thing to attract the attention of the various forces (see above), which results in the loss of that thing. I can always find my black Thinsulate gloves, I can never find my rag-wool gloves.”

Followed by this:

“October 30
Meditating on this, I’ve realized that my love for rag-wool gloves bears no comparison to my love for my wife and children. The gravitational pull around them must be exceptionally strong. If this is true, the attraction of the universe toward them must result in their loss.

If I want to keep them, I must learn not to love them.”

Then this:

“October 31
Having considered this further, I think the danger is posed mostly to things that cannot return love. When love creates a bond, the gravitational pull becomes so great that the aforementioned forces cannot impose themselves on, or affect it. So I must love my wife and my children, and do what I can to evoke their love for me, to the greatest extent possible, so that the gravity of our love will never admit our loss to each other. I think that this is the secret of eternal life. I think we will live forever.”

I bought the book at an estate sale last Saturday, and found the above text later that same day. It’s given me much to think about concerning my own wife and children.

Found: Meditations on Rag-Wool Gloves

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