In an infinity of form everything is possible...  


          If one were to study the surface of the earth from a dis­tance, like looking at an orange, living matter, forests and cities, would appear like a spreading mold; humanity with its alarming proliferation of stuff and speed of reproduction not unlike a cancer. Cancer as far as we know is a game of speed, cell reproduction hurried out of proportion to its environment. Without pushing the anal­ogy too far we might nevertheless see the human, and its cargo, as devouring the earth's surface, even to the extent of draining its life blood from below, something like the action of a virus with its tentacles penetrating the skin of the cell.  


          However, this is not an attempt to denigrate the human spirit. Still, until we have a profound concept of our role in the uni­verse, we will be used by unconscious forces and combinations of forces, we will be cheated out of the beauty and majesty of our innate vision of being actors in an immense cosmic game of unthinkable form and variation.  


          Whether as destroyers or creators, the role of all living matter is for the transformation of raw energy to light. We do not inherit light from the sun. As from other planets, we re­ceive powerful emanations out of which the stuff of light is produced. All phenomena exists for the process of converting energy to light. Collectively, species play their games of com­petition and mutation for the refinement of energy to light.  


          There cannot be a shortage of energy. There is nothing but en­ergy. When we speak of needing more "energy", the word is a misnomer. What we fall short of are the means of refining pure energy into light. We need only to see a city from  an aircraft as we fly over, to realize our love affair with light, or to stay in Las Vegas a few days to realize our outright passion for light. Our greed for energy, the reason we devastate the forests and suck the earth's crust is a lust for light. Light is our lover and god. Lucifer, the god of light, has us in His embrace. Like moths we fly to light even with the knowledge of certain de­struction.  


          Modern civilization is a light junky. When we see the amazing spectacle from above of a city at night, we realize why millions of people arise in the morning to work all day, use machines that produce light, and that use light. The light of day is no longer enough. At night we watch the dramas of refracted light on TV, or the projected light of movies, stages and sports arenas lighted by billions of can­dlelight's of floods. We drive cars lighted with powerful beams, cook with light, heal with light, kill and communicate with light. Lucifer, the angel of light, ousted by a jealous god, has won the world, and uses it as a plaything. Are we sure it was the bad angels who were kicked out of heaven?  


          It is said, that one of the scientists at the birth of nuclear energy on the flats in New Mexico, awed by the release of light and energy in the first atomic blast, quoted the Bhagavad Gita : (trans.. by Juan Mascaro)  


"the light of a thousand suns arose in the sky and Arjuna saw in that radiance the whole universe in its dance of innumerable forms and variations, all gods and all creatures-the splendor of an infinite beauty which illumines the universe, blinding  incomprehensible."    


          According to a popular scenario the human and humanity is a mixture of monster and angel, and if we don't manage to pull the teeth from the monster there is a bleak future ahead, if any at all. We have come to this pass, say the moralists awed by their own guilt, through ig­norance and greed, that we are children with more power in our hands than we know what to do with. There is another theory that says the whole thing is a huge cosmic joke, that tomorrow we shall be saved despite our errors even though they have been great and grievous; at the flick of an eyelash we shall find ourselves in another dimension where peace and beauty reign supreme, without rent to pay or hurts to feel.    


          Early nineteen century Scotch philosophers advised us to keep our minds on the practical and despise hope and imagination, but then what isn't the product of imagination, including mate­rialism, and what isn't ground for action except hope?  


          An alternate viewpoint appeals to neither idealism nor mate­rialism, nor reprieve from error, but suggests that by perceiv­ing and giving expression to any profound moment of being, we can face the hard bright power of reality, meaning-of-meaning without reservation. We can face the fact that we are what we are, not what we should be, or might have been, nor could have become if God had of been kinder, mama and papa more loving and luck on our side, but are the spontaneous knowledge of this - this immediate creative act of being - that there has never been, nor will ever be, another place, another time, another One. We have always existed in this moment of creation-destruction.  


          As a species we are a mass of paradoxes. We are beauti­ful and mean, altruistic, gentle and kind and at the same time given to torturing, not only our own kind but other creatures, and to the display of power for power's sake. We are generous and greedy, capable of heroic acts and acts of insane cruelty and cowardice. We have, through our unique faculties, projected the idea of a cosmos of awesome proportions, an immense light show, creating a world of fascinating apparitions and dramas, at the same time we indulge in the most barbaric acts, running roughshod over other species, decimating our own.  


          For sure, the concept of 'humanity'  is a tremendous and ma­jestic idea, greater than it itself collectively recognizes. We may never know the breadth and scope of the greater game of which we are a part, but with imagination and a certain sense of humor and awe we can perhaps, with luck  and a certain grace, touch something of the magnitude of the greater Being, but only with proper humility and available tools of mathematics philosophy, intuition and im­plication. This is one of the better roles of love, art, science and re­ligion.  


          Any picture we project out of the accumulation of contradic­tory experiences and perceptions filtered through our own and  species' memory, is of course, only an approximation. Expression at its best is a necessary generalization, no less for being that. Reality is a fact of perceived being, total acceptance of the moment, spontaneous being-of-being without qualification, referred to as the ground of Self, the Absolute, God, or anyone of countless devout and curious labels, all of which are approximations, cultural modes, no less valid for that reason.  


          Ultimately we must look to culture to get a picture of this an­gel-beast, this creature of contrast. Culture alone contains the elements that permit the spiritual, the sensual, the intellec­tual, the active and the passive, the male and the female , the dualism of Being be perceived through the lens of Beauty, demands, in fact, that we not deny any portion of human ex­perience and knowledge before we are given access to this powerful lens.  


Then came, at a predetermined moment, a moment in time

and of time,

A moment not out of time, but in time, in what we call history:

transecting, bisecting the world of time, but not like a moment in time,

A moment in time but time was made through that moment:

or without the meaning there is no time, and

That moment of time gave the meaning.  


                               - T.S.Eliot: from The Rock

                               (on the Incarnation of the Word)



          We are here to serve perfection of Being as node ends of experience. We are here to adventure, to perceive, with luck, to touch something of the beauty and dimensions of the Creative gesture.  


          If we miss the vision, cosmos will not be disaffected, nor will our blindness be held against us. Those who care to see, will be given vision, and although the cost in mental and physi­cal anguish might be intense, one drop of the sublime vision apprehended at the end of a pine bough, or caught in the eye­beams of the Beloved can suffice for a lifetime.  


          We are a part of a molecular light-organism, which heart is the expanding contracting universe. Each living thing inherits a single life cycle to experience something of its majesty and beauty.  


          We are not here to change one iota of it. We can only change our own perspective; change is inherent in the illusion of time, we are used by change, but in reality, there is no change. The totality of the organism exists in one split second of this timeless moment.  


          Time and space, are at best lenses through which we per­ceive implications of an alternate reality. To stare directly at Reality-of-Being is beyond capacity of any single part. However the whole can experience itself through each of its parts. No single part can experience the whole except in penetration through the creative act, or through drowning, in what the Sufis call, the Divine Honey pot - Love - Love of God.  


                Become as God; then Ah! what joy is thine! 

                Thou drinkest God with every sip of wine.  


                                                                Angelus Selesius




- Nick Nickolds, 2004




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