The sun rose today, warming the earth, bringing with it bird song and life. The sun… the most selfless of all phenomena. Daily it shows its face, provides nutrients to plants and animals alike, creates life, creates hope, creates creation – and asks nothing in return.
I ask you Life, is this the hope for humanity? To be, each of us, radiant suns; selflessly giving, brightly shining in our truth? Providing all we are and all we have for the benefit of others, yet asking nothing in return?Why then, do we feel desires and yearnings? Why then, are we selfish, envious, or jealous? Why do we have such a difficult time discerning what we are meant to be?
The sun knows who he is. There’s no question as to what he’s meant to do. He flares and burns and radiates. He is exactly himself without question. The same goes for the whole of nature. An acorn becomes an oak, a cub becomes a lioness. A shark is a predator, as much as the crocodile. A bird flies, a fish swims. A butterfly is completely unaware of its own beauty. They are each of them ambivalent to the importance of their own existence, and yet live truthfully to what they were born to be. They live each day in the certainty of what they are.
The trees, in their Druidic knowledge, have begun their clothing change into hues of yellow, orange, and red. Leaves fall and grace the ground, paper scraping over stone. It’s a reminder of the cycles of life. We bloom, create beauty, and then fall apart to begin anew. And yet, who knows the desire of the tree? Do they know they’ll live through the harsh winter, barren and cold? For that matter, does the tree know winter won’t last forever? Or do they, like us, fear the desolation of change and the stripping of all we hold dear, yet remain steadfastly rooted in the ground in which they’ve sprouted? Do they know their seeds will push forth from the darkness of this earth to create new life?
Are we humans merely making things too difficult? Our overthinking, obsessions, ponderings, and creations? Our hoarding, consumptions, judgements, and hatreds? Should we be the tree, firmly rooted? Or are we more like the bird, and meant to take flight? What are we, Life? Were humans meant to grace this land? And if so, for what? To live as the sun? To become what we truly are at the highest aspect of our being? What are we capable of becoming as a whole species?
It certainly can’t be what we are now – living as victims, buried in our distractions. How far could we rise if we refused to dull our own lightand instead sparkled with the magic of the stardust in our bones? Could we elevate to the stars? Could we live as whole beings, ambivalent to our own beauties, and yet serve as we are meant?