Monday, March 17, 2008

The Magnificence Of Life.

Sitting outdoors one can feel the depth and magnificence of life. The wind was blowing quite forcefully and everything was being shaken to its roots. Trees swayed and leaves blew from there branches. The sun was bright and its light reflected off every surface, everywhere. The blades of grass were all alive, individually standing out with a vivid green only the Earth knows. The sky was such a stark blue and the big, bellowing clouds were in such sharp contrast that one could almost get lost in the movement of shape and colors. The air was cool, with each forceful gust of wind blowing right through one's sense of self, waking one up to the ceaseless activity of life all around. As one continued to sit and bask in the joy of the day all the things of the mind began to slip away. Reference points in time and remembered aspects of one's being were all carried with the breeze to a place where they no longer held any meaning. The day had its own movement, with its own agenda, and one was simply apart of that.

One's survival has become such a petty affair. The occupation you keep, the duties you adhere too, the respect you give some authority, are all so small and utterly insignificant in relation to the beauty of life itself. Our progression through time, towards becoming a people of comfort and privilege, has left many with nothing more than the isolating sense of a life come apart and lacking intrinsic depth. Slipping, half-consciously, into routine and habit has become a cornerstone of surviving in today's world. Routine is the signpost of a mind no longer active or alive, a mind that's simply following the motions of yesterday, the motions of those around it. The idea of revolution was to break this mold, break out of the deadening of mind and create something new, but it too has become yet another pattern of a sleepwalking mind. Fighting something one intuits to be untrue only establishes another untruth in its place and the march towards complacency and despair continues unabated. If the mind can imagine it, it is not the way. If the mind can help bring it about, it is only bringing about further delusion. Any experience simply creates a template to be repeated, and repetition is surely not the way out of mediocrity. Our world today is interested in the survival of the sick, the survival of the self-centered and our world today is entirely mind-made. Look no further than yourself, look no further than the functioning of your own mind, the virus without a cure.

Sitting outdoors today was like no other day before it. The beauty of life was so immediate that there was no room, anywhere, to compare it with anything else. Life's movement was purely melodic, mesmerizing, and all inclusive. If one were not careful one could almost lose oneself in the sheer wonder of it all. The birds overhead were enjoying the wind, gliding here and there, and the squirrels were running up and down the neighboring trees as the wind blew them back and forth. This day had the sun to thank, for it was the sun's light touching each inch of Earth that seemed to grant all the permission to play. Without it, today would have been an entirely different place.