The five senses, four at a time
The five senses, four at a time
In a couple of books by William Fezler, a Psychoanalyst in Beverly Hills, I discovered how very profound an imagined experience becomes, when one sensory input is noticeably missing throughout the visualized events.
Life’s ongoing experience is part physically real, part imaginarily meaningful, as one’s mind integrates the here-and-now sensory inputs with comparable pasts to identify possible significances. All the senses are linked into the experiences of the past, now a multidimensional web of patterns waiting in one’s mind to resonate with the here-and-now inputs.
So what happens when one experiences the here and now, while one of the solid web of senses is not there? Without olfactory input, chemicals drifting into my apartment window, dry my nasal passages and cause my eyes to water and cake around the sockets; yet I know not what smell the chemical is. Without taste, food and drink has moisture and texture, sometimes even crunch, yet no flavor with which to beautify. Without touch, I am a robot moving across the terrain, relaying pictures and audio to someone else far away. In silence, the extreme jet-engine-like Tinnitus howl fills all, as it has for many decades unceasingly when real sound cannot be found. In the dark, I remember passionate multi-sensual lovemaking to fully receptive woman to the envisioned sound of beautiful instrumental music playing unified within us, long hours of joy supreme in comfort for both of us, making life’s earlier daily drudgery tolerable.
One can choose what to imaginatively fill into the missing sensory input, thus bringing a bit of chosen newness to old patterns of life, shaking the vast internal web of one’s multidimensional model of all life’s sensory relationship integrated meaningfulness, so as to “see” things anew.
by James E. D. Cline on 20050526, 2000 hrs.
(Note: this is another exercise done for the Chuparosa Writers group, the requirement be to write something short about the five senses, one missing at a time.)
In a couple of books by William Fezler, a Psychoanalyst in Beverly Hills, I discovered how very profound an imagined experience becomes, when one sensory input is noticeably missing throughout the visualized events.
Life’s ongoing experience is part physically real, part imaginarily meaningful, as one’s mind integrates the here-and-now sensory inputs with comparable pasts to identify possible significances. All the senses are linked into the experiences of the past, now a multidimensional web of patterns waiting in one’s mind to resonate with the here-and-now inputs.
So what happens when one experiences the here and now, while one of the solid web of senses is not there? Without olfactory input, chemicals drifting into my apartment window, dry my nasal passages and cause my eyes to water and cake around the sockets; yet I know not what smell the chemical is. Without taste, food and drink has moisture and texture, sometimes even crunch, yet no flavor with which to beautify. Without touch, I am a robot moving across the terrain, relaying pictures and audio to someone else far away. In silence, the extreme jet-engine-like Tinnitus howl fills all, as it has for many decades unceasingly when real sound cannot be found. In the dark, I remember passionate multi-sensual lovemaking to fully receptive woman to the envisioned sound of beautiful instrumental music playing unified within us, long hours of joy supreme in comfort for both of us, making life’s earlier daily drudgery tolerable.
One can choose what to imaginatively fill into the missing sensory input, thus bringing a bit of chosen newness to old patterns of life, shaking the vast internal web of one’s multidimensional model of all life’s sensory relationship integrated meaningfulness, so as to “see” things anew.
by James E. D. Cline on 20050526, 2000 hrs.
(Note: this is another exercise done for the Chuparosa Writers group, the requirement be to write something short about the five senses, one missing at a time.)