 
                        20080531.00

                        Orientation

     I consider myself (well) oriented, when I know where
the sun rises and where it sets and in which quadrant of
the heavens I might find the North Star.  I consider myself
(well) oriented when I know the date and the day of the
week, when I know my own name and the names of members of
my family immediate to me, when I know my postal and my e-
mail addresses, my telephone numbers, my Internet service
provider's access numbers, when I know how to get in touch
with my physician, my lawyer and my accountant. Strictly
considered all these data are memory fragments of past
experience, but I have dire need of them, and I rely on
them to anticipate what I will do next.

     As I reflect on these items of orientation, it becomes
apparent that they are fragments, strands of a web that my
mind has woven for me from memory, from social interaction
with the indispensable aid of language. What I do in the
next minute, the next hour, the next day and the next week
is an outgrowth, an expression, a consequence of such
orientation. All my mental apperception is of the past; all
my anticipation is of the future, and the infinitesimal
dividing line between them is the present.

     I consider it very important to lay out this scenario,
not because such understanding will directly influence what
I perceive and what I intend; although it may have some
inapparent and unexpected effects, - but because the
description and understanding of this precarious mental and
emotional (spiritual) bridging between past and future
which is the only life I have.  It is the essential
constituent of my orientation. And having written this
statement, it is immediately obvious to me that my
understanding is recursive.  My understanding of
orientation is also the most important constituent of
orientation itself.

                     * * * * *
Copyright 2008, Ernst Jochen Meyer
