4th December, 2018.
We dream of peace, perfect love and riches so that we may cease to strive. We bend our backs and brains fathoming ingenious ways to accumulate all these riches, often, by hook or by crook. And so it goes. The rhythms of insanity couched in the insidiousness of lechery and greed. We desperately apply a quick coat of fresh paint every so often to appear new and inviting. Alas, all these actions project a jadedness that is unnatural. For beauty, the real beauty that we possess, is brushed aside in our indecent haste to acquire a youthfulness and vigour just for the moment – la petit morte – the little death. And then it is gone. That tingling feeling of ecstasy.
The primordial instinct is embedded in all of us like the mark of Cain. It seduces us to focus on the animal – the hair, the canine teeth, the nails, the sexual urge and the mindless violence.
The hurdy-gurdy of life keeps us entertained, chivvies up the innards and livens the thoughts centred on the vagaries of survival in a material world. But it is also a reminder that all good things must end on a note of acceptance. And, sadly, this acceptance we usually translate into despondency, a fatalism that cocoons us in a warped world of our own delusions.
But why should this be so?
Why do we ignore the beauty within, the everlasting creature, the soul? A divine gift that we were born with, that if used can help us see reason and seek balance between materialism of need not want, and spiritualism sans faux worship with its attending theatricals.
We are much cleverer than the savages we project, for we possess the wisdom of our ancestors, the beauty of nature, and gentleness and fragility like the pollen laden wings of a butterfly.
Perhaps it is time we walk away from ourselves of blood and bone, rage, hate, violence and wants, to our souls to rediscover who we really are, and what we should be doing on this beautiful blue planet called earth.
The Now is omnipotent.
And what better time to begin than Now… to walk away.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
© Mark Ulyseas