Thursday, September 13, 2007

Caught Up In The Street Lights.

It seems it is all to easy to get caught up in the life that unfolds beneath the street lights, so to speak. The life of the human narrative. Yesterday's post spoke about the 'reality we know' being completely formed from images already established in the mind, and our internal narrative is no different. The human narrative is the way all these loose-end images are tied together in order to form what we hope is a coherent linear progression of 'actual' events called 'my life.' The human narrative itself is but an image, a self-image, put together in the exact same fashion as every other image standing in as reality, for there must always be a 'self' aware of 'reality.' It's no wonder we seem to hold a certain unconscious disdain for the natural world, for our narrative and endeavors are not what put the natural world together. We may have named them but we didn't create the conifers, or the ocean, or the grasslands. And in fact, all we do, have ever done, or will ever think up is but an imitation of the natural world and the order found there.

Polaris,sun through clouds,cloudy day,sky

It seems we'd rather surround ourselves with a man-made environment, fill it with other people and a few domesticated animals, and play out our pointless, self-created dramas in front of a live audience. Streets of asphalt, rivers of cement, skyscrapers of steel, and homes of plywood all encircle the traveling human caravan as it rolls through another pocket of this most beautiful Earth. Lights that never sleep, that's what it is like to live in the cities, towns, districts, and neighborhoods of large populations of humanity on Earth. Lights that are always on, creating an almost encapsulated bubble filled with an ignorant glow. Last night, sitting outside and looking up, through the ignorant glow, at the sky, I saw several stars shining down on me. Living in Venice California, I saw more airplanes than stars, but there they were for those out looking for them. On this clear night I began to allow myself, once again, to feel the sense of this deep space that surrounds our beloved planet. Space, that can only be conceived of as going on forever in every direction and dimension. Seeing but a few bright objects didn't deter me from feeling the countless other bright ones I couldn't see swimming around in this deep expanse of incredibly immense space. And as this space expanded, so did the mind. The same mind that constricts around the images created to support our human drama expands to travel with space as it reaches out for boundaries that do not exist.

Just the simple fact of looking up, out of our own sense of a purely linear existence, is enough to explode the rigid confines of this self-serving view of life. Everything that man has put together, everything that man has achieved, all that has been thought, penned, and passed on is but a self-imposed form of imprisonment. Even our demand for health and old age is but a cramped cell in an overcrowded prison, for it is only an image that demands 'more life, more life!' If we allow it, life itself, will seep back into the world of static images, shatter our self-imposed 'reality' and replace this stagnant existence with the dynamic movement of an untamed river of love. Of course, you'd have to move away from the street lights in order to see this river raging your way.