Don’t you find, there are some days, when momentarily there is a complete detachment? In its place an occupied wholeness, a connectedness to the rest of the universe raising no questions but instead offering a bathing calm from head to toe.
The wholeness of the moment amplifies our inherent wisdom.
The inherent wisdom, which is often forgotten, reminds us we are not alone, for each of us is part of the bigger perspective. That bigger perspective – the heartbeat of the universe.
Choosing to rest in the state of occupied wholeness, detaching for equanimity is a lost priority. Yet it is this priority which must be found, for the sake of the future for humanity. For the sake of love and kindness.
Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
Anais Nin
Fragments
Our lives are made up of many fragments of connectedness. Essentially, for most humans, this is what keeps the world spinning. An irremovable part of human connection is emotion. Emotions are like the weather, not in our control.
Removing oneself from emotions after connection takes place is simply near impossible task. In turn, detachment from emotion to gain equanimity is not easy. Life in human form was not supposed to be a simple walk in the park. We are here to learn through our own suffering – and when we reach the end of suffering, we will know wisdom. When we understand wisdom, true inherent intelligence awaits.
And so, that pinprick of light called equanimity, will take us on a journey through connections which will lead to a roller coaster ride of suffering through human emotion. From here, if we are aware, we will turn a corner at some point and realise compassion (love and kindness) is the overriding key to end suffering. Once we have travelled through and arrived at the end of the journey having witnessed a myriad of experiences and learnt many a lesson along the way, we will sit and enjoy equanimity.
Back to the Start of Our Journey.
Human connectedness mixed with emotion writes our stories and nurtures our lives. The connected fragments bring love, hope, anger, fear but most of all the bring lessons to be acknowledged – and even learnt from if we choose.
Think of the sheer number of connections we have already had in our lives. Some them spanning decades, some as fleeting as a brush on the shoulder when crossing at the traffic lights. Humans, connecting with humans. All fragments of the bigger whole. All of us trying to making sense. All of us enacting our own stories – together.
The potential each connection holds is up to the individual. And yet, these fragments of connection aid in building the storyline of each others lives, they are as important as the next. So, just like plants in a garden, we should take the time nurture each. Allow the fragmented relationships to flourish until they too pass by.
Partners, lovers, children, parents, aunties, uncle’s, grandparents.
Best friends, friends, cousins, colleagues, teachers.
Bosses, rivals, bullies, nasties, boyfriends, girlfriends, lust afters, one-nighters, acquaintances.
That person you sat next to in math class, the girl you teamed up with at the gym, the ethnic shop keeper, the kind security guard, the quirky barista, the guy who sat next to you in the cinema who smelled like caramel sauce. Your school friend who you lost touch with long ago. Your first love, your last love. Your best friends daughter. Your nana.
The person you lost your virginity to, the people you share your innermost thoughts, those who you love but will never trust.
The like minded, the kindred, the compatriots, the do gooders, the intermediaries, the quickstays, the never stays.
Those who we have met through the inter web, the fans, the enemies, the creatives, the rich, the poor, the middle ground. The religious, the spiritual, the happy, the angry, the anxious, the troubled, the trouble makers.
And the list goes on….
All but fragments who in some way shape have the capacity to affect our moments, our days, our lives. And likewise too we, may have a profound effect on each of them.
Within the turbulence of daily life, and more so turbulence of human emotion, not easy is it to remember compassion. In a society built on oneupmanship we often forget to ‘choose to be the better person’. How are you writing the story of your life?
Spiritual teachings tell us to always ‘start with self’, unless we investigate and then clean out our own hearts and minds, how can we offer true compassion consisting in love and kindness to the next?
It starts with us. within each connection, we have a choice of how we shall respond. Positive, negative, angry, fearful, with hate or remorse – or simply with compassion. And in starting with ourselves, acknowledging the part we play, we are moving one tiny fragment closer to equanimity. The same equanimity we can all bathe in. We can lead others there, so they too can radiate the same kind of light and love that comes for free, but oftentimes, for whatever reason we choose to lock it away.
It starts with self, to acknowledge each fragment for its purpose in our own lives and remember that we too can have an effect on human kind as the tiny fragment of connectedness that we all are … light and love.
We Are All A Gift Of FRACTAL ABSTRACTION
Long before Time, there was a Master Artist who sat cross-legged in the Infinite Void, holding the Vast Darkness between cupped palms. He was content with The Stillness, removed from any need for Arousal of Life.
Then, for no reason whatsoever, as is the wont and whim of ubiquity, the palms of the Master Artist began to itch. They itched with irritation to beget a Supreme Magnum Opus, an inflammation that seeped through the Infinite Void and pricked its way into the Master Artist’s fingers. He began to fidget and play.
Sparks flew from the ends of his digits, escalating in fervor and magnitude until the Vast Darkness was embroidered with the ferocious energy of gaseous plasma, electromagnetic radiation, cosmic rays, and the dust of unleashed inertia. Creative play had erupted out of the Void, ransacked its way across the Great Stillness. All because the Master Artist had ensnared a random idea, caroused with it while in a state of inventive ecstasy.
As with all creatives, especially omnipotent ones, the Master Artist soon fixated on a specific, a relatively indistinct rock, effortless to juggle, amusing to alter. Gas and dust were cemented with immortal saliva while jealous bursts of passionate exertion ignited the rock’s inner sanctum. A push of the Master Artist’s opposable thumbs into the rock’s crust provoked vapors to emerge, form clouds ripe with moisture. Additional manipulation produced water, rain. Abstract art hung in the windows of the Universe.
The concept of Artist as Creator and Creator as Artist permeated the Infinite Void, becoming so crushing in vigor that strands of RNA and DNA draped across the facade of the rock. Life, albeit miniscule and unpretentious, had arisen. The lone single cell soon gave way to bacteria, virus, soft-bodied metazoa. The Master Artist’s imagination pitched into fevered frenzy. Fish, plants, amphibians, reptiles, trees, ferns – all emerged from the ooze of sweat, the mire of rock. And still the frenetic enterprise continued to expand. Mammals, dinosaurs (scratch the latter as these encroached upon substantial negative space and were retracted), birds, insects, flowers, primates – all shotgunned out of the Master Artist’s will and manifested into existence. A penchant for detail soon consumed the work and diversification of what already existed began. The Artist as Manipulator emerged.
But, as is the way with creative genuis, artistic depletion promptly surrendered to exhaustion. The Master Artist massaged his swollen knuckles, kicked back from the Infinite Void, now significantly less intimidating, and deeply inhaled most of the oxygen he had so recently fabricated. Unused fragments of work littered the Universe. This disruption in Harmony provoked the Master Artist into further action.
He scooped up loose molecules, dormant gases, leftover dentition, discarded vocal chords, entangled root systems, and buckets of bacteria. The accumulation of forsaken debris continued until a semblance of symmetry emerged. The work gratified his satisfaction.
However, a final challenge provoked the Master Artist: how to proceed with the remnants of the Magnum Opus. The artistry of the rock could only assume so much additional diversity before being categorized as tacky. Thus was born the original “aha” moment, the critical crux where the influence of ego reflects the point where Art becomes Artist and Artist becomes Art.
The infinite hands of the Master Artist fabricated empty replicas of himself out of the rock’s detritus, stuffed the interiors with extraneous odds and ends that seemed oddly pertinent. The Fortunate Mistake influenced the arrival of humanity as a key component of the Master Artist’s work. Perhaps this is why humans intuit strong affinity with the rock and its sentient beings. Perhaps this is also why humans are obligated to be fragments of the whole.
Between Now & Zen 