Making the Narrative disappear

On our inner website is a lot of web traffic going on. The blogger Seth Godin writes in regard to humanity and artificial intelligence:

"One reason we easily dismiss the astonishing things computers can do is that we know that they don't carry around a narrative, a play by play, the noise in their head that's actually (in our view) 'intelligence.'

It turns out, though, that the narrative is a bug, not a feature. That narrative doesn't help us perform better, it actually makes us less intelligent. Any athlete or world-class performer (in debate, dance or dungeonmastering) will tell you that they do their best work when they are so engaged that the narrative disappears.“ (Seth Godin - Blog April 12, 2015)."

I so love the possibility to be engaged with something wonderful and constructive, so patient and kind: The dimension of divine Love, our home. To be engaged with and in divine Love.

Beyond the mental chatter of fears, intrusive gossip with ourselves about ourselves, beyond the flibbertigibbety deviations, false prophecies, and withering assessments, based on idiotic assumptions, is the real thing: the quiet and immediacy of spiritual being, waiting to be discovered. Our thought is autonomous. Spirit is meaningful, your spiritual centre is sure.

Christ Jesus talks about „the closet“ as an image for a space in which to commune with Spirit. You could say in modern terms: A space in which „the narrative disappears“. We can relax and be at peace, and encounter something substantial, discovering what it means to be governed only by divine Love.

It is a natural desire to be drawn away from the narrative into the overwhelming peace of supreme Love. When the narrative is silenced we see what it means to be - and if then somebody says: „Come inside for a cup of tea“, as in Michael Leunig’s cartoon, we answer: "Yes, please, with a slice of fresh lemon."