Map Reader

In organic solid bone, soft flesh, blood flowing, corpuscle coursing, everyday breathing in breathing out, walking talking thinking living existence time, map reading has historically been the rightful domain of male human species.  It’s got something to do with right left brain wiring; therefore giving rise to a generalized opinion that female species human is better designed to lowly less stimulating activity. 

Thankfully thinking has moved on and up and google and Siri have reduced any argument against a Speech Interpretation and Recognition Interface futile and unrewarding.  External map reading was always a challenge, getting lost a cost of miscalculation.  Depending on destination and importance of arrival, time and purpose, map reading could be a journey of rewarding deliverance or a deliberate disaster of one’s own imperfect sensory ability, in an overloaded sensory minefield.  Gender really had nothing to do with it; it just came down to practice perseverance and opportunistic persistence.

​Life mapping and reading is a whole different thing.  There are those, whoever those in the life mapping speciality are, who purport to have the skills necessary to guide you along the rocky road of life, over the bumpy and pot holed bitumen of existence and up and down the hills and valleys of mortalities tumultuous terrain.  Like some palm reader, lines of your life are road blocked, T-junctioned, crossroaded, roundabouted and gridlocked into a future longitude latitude reference point, delivered by some wise human Siri voiceover.

Unfortunately or fortunately, as each individual case actually is dependent on your view, you and only you are your very own Speech Interpretation and Recognition Interface.  Siri is you and you alone are the only reader of your mind map.  Your map, like your finger print, is unique to you, identifiable to you, for you and only you. It’s readable by no one else, barely decipherable by you and coded in symbols that can only be unlocked by you.

​Being aware that a map (mind alignment profile) actually exists is the very first step.  Without that awareness everything else is chaotic chaos.  Some find their map in religious doctrine others in career and status.  But even these purposes passions and meanings can fail dismally and flounder heartbreakingly on broken and shattered dreams, when the reality of life’s full force enters uninvited. 

For most their own map will remain elusive, fluttering into view intermittingly, especially in times of crisis, only to be pushed away when the storm has passed.  The search for meaning in life is usually taken up with a constant mapping of others existence, attempting to read their secrets and techniques in a desperate effort to emulate those whose lives appear to have it all.

​Being, just being with those who are officially dying is a journey into map reading, for them and those close to them.  Each individual is brought sharply to a full stop and even though the acceleration of their lives is careering on, blockages in the form of T-junctions, crossroads, roundabouts, gridlocks and roadblocks are vaporised, bringing the whole map into clarity and silent slow motion freefall.

For those who are lucky and able enough to be within the cacophony of chaotic death time, finding their map is glaringly available.  The treasure is not at any point on the map; reward is not some tangible material possession.  Finding your simple purpose, your place and part, your individual uniqueness with a common whole, your humanity with other individual humans on the trip of life, finding you, being you, you.

You are the map the map is you.

​Read well.