I'm Not Really Here by Tim Allen

Author:Tim Allen [Allen, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Non-Fiction, Biography, Humour
ISBN: 9780786862573
Google: HEoe9MWqGwoC
Amazon: B000IOLLTC
Goodreads: 1058798
Publisher: Hyperion
Published: 1996-04-15T04:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

TAO/MAN?

I get the obvious connection. I've been thinking a lot about physics, Buddha, and the nature of beer, but I can't help thinking that this meeting of TAO/MAN and TOOLMAN — which is my onscreen name — is not simply a coincidence. Let's just call it "synchronicity," a word coined by the famous psychologist and philosopher, Carl Jung. He denned synchronicity as a meaningful coincidence; a significantly related pattern of chance.

And here's a really synchronous fact: Jung coined the term synchronicity while lecturing in London about the Tao.

The question I have is how did that individual, the TAO/MAN, know what I was thinking? He did, for God's sake, know what I was thinking! Is it possible he's tapping my phone and watching me from across the street with high-powered binoculars, gathering scandalous info for "The Globe"? Or do people on the same journey simply share the same mental wavelength. "TOOLMAN to TAO/MAN, breaker, breaker."

Mind reading is possible. I know because it happened to me.

One night, about 20 years ago, when I was in college, a friend of mine and I sat together for three hours and talked. Only we didn't move our mouths or say any words.

I know it sounds crazy. It's the kind of thing you can't tell just anyone without seeming like the guy who claims he's seen a UFO. Well, it happened. I know we spoke mind to mind. The guy I was with knows who he is, and he knows that even today, when we meet, that evening always comes up in our conversation. Every time, he says, "That was the weirdest night of my life. But I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"But it happened, right?" I say?

"Yes, it happened. Now will you drop it?"

It wasn't weird, it was glorious. I wish I could figure out what we did and do it again.

Here's what happened: We were watching television. Well, not exactly watching. It was just on. There was a candle. Incense. The J. Geils Band blasting on the stereo. We were drinking beer. Every sensory portal was accounted for.

I ended up getting really involved in the candle flame. I let it take me places. Things got very disjointed. I pretty much lost all notion of who I was, but didn't have any problem with it. The further out I got, the better I liked it. I felt so involved in the moment that it must have scared my friend because suddenly I heard his voice yelling for me to come back. I heard his voice as though I was drowning. Or dying.

"Come back. Come back!"

I looked right at him while he yelled this, but his mouth wasn't moving. I thought/said, "What?!" Apparently my mouth didn't move either.

He thought/said, "How do you feel? Come back. I'm worried."

I thought/said, "Do you realize you're not moving your lips?"

He went, "You're not either."

I thought/said, "I'm not?"

He said: "What?" That startled us because it was the first word we had actually heard.

Afterwards we tried every which way to figure it out.

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