Living individuality
Living
in
dividuality
What then, is our task in these times? Surely, we must help a hand in trying to find ground again on which our finite humanity can flourish and relearn the speak of the earth. This is the language of a circular breath, of the in-and-exhale, silently breezing all beings towards their birth, quieting them gently and reorienting their horizon towards what it is to be alive.
What is this then, to be alive? And has this changed throughout history? For sure, our cultural fathers and mothers used different words, different symbolons. But scratch the symbol, which is a bridge, a connecting tool, and what remains? Is the experience, the essence of being, a changed undergoing in our times? Do we breathe differently, eat differently, see, hear and feel differently? I do not believe we do. The only difference is the idiom, the realm of belief through narration. And in this, our temporary realm, we are now imprisoned. Ours in these times is the realm of infinity, where the belief that the sky is the limit is a fundamental commandment and the impunity of individuality rules over souls and minds . But how do we reconcile the symbols of endlessness and limitlessness, this illusion of eternal life, with the unchanged Truth of being alive, of our time as standing and breathing, hopefully thinking humans, which is still and always manifesting through finiteness?
The answer is, we don’t. We need to turn back, retreat in our tracks and face our narrative toward reality. In other words we have to face our mortality again. But how to go about it, now that our technological age is no longer compatible with the days of contemplation, meditation, prayer?
Disenthrall. Unlock. De-dopamize. Drop all baggage of latched-on narratives and turn back to that naked instant, when a ray of blinding sunlight breaks through the foliage for the first time on a fresh morning. It is too fast and surprising to suppress the spontaneity hidden underneath the rocks of learning. It breaks through and opens up space for living to burst out. This is the moment of breathing in-and-out without naming anything, the peaceful sparkling of returning to birth, now, and death, and when the realization dawns that the earth is still the witness. And we are her children. There, we can find our true words, our very own story, and perhaps our poetry. We certainly find connection with life as finite. The earth is our ground.
What about all the great findings of our times? Should we suspend blindly putting our hope in our scientific accomplishments, the discoveries (uncovering) of DNA, Quantum-Fields, Evolution, General Relativity? Throw them out of our dictionary and turn to the mystical realm and allow for an entirely new Idiom to capture us and sweep us into a new, hopefully better era? Should we discredit them as mere expressions of a relative truth of imprisoned technological thinking? I do not adhere to any nihilistic idea, so that one doesn’t fly with me either. But let’s turn around now and then, cut the power of our curiosity loose on what we missed when we started believing we can defeat the truth of the cycle of life and death, which is the home and birthright of our Being. It is the residence of our essence, this cycle gives us a horizon. And there is no space for infinity when we reconnect to this ancient Truth.
May the earth be my witness.