Regular readers of this mess will have to acknowledge that
my view of life tends toward the dark side.
War, famine, idiocy, fanaticism, hypocrisy, climate change… you know,
reality. But every once in a while even
I have to acknowledge the beauty that surrounds us in this vale of tears. The other day, for instance, I was up quite
early, as is my wont, and was treated to a most spectacular sunrise. The sky was ablaze with brilliant oranges and
yellows and reds, speckled with dark clouds, and there on the Eastern horizon
was the blazing ball of the Sun peeking up over the hills across the
harbor. The dawn was still, as if the
world was holding its breath to take in the glory of it. And I stood there in the upstairs dining room
of my house, gazing through the arched windows at all of this, seemingly staged
as a private spectacle just for me, and I felt awe, and something like ecstasy
at the wonder of it… and a little guilty because I so rarely, these days, get
past all the crap to take this in.
Then I thought of the beautiful souls with whom I’ve come in
contact over the decades comprised by my life, human and non-human, and the
love I’ve felt and still feel for them, and I heard myself whisper a “Thank You”
to the Universe for the privilege of having known them. I thought of the warmth of the Sun on my
skin, and I understood for a moment how ancient people, so much more in touch
with the rhythms of Nature, had little choice but to decide that the Sun was a
god. I thought of the goodness of
peaches and apples and berries and, of course, wine. I remembered myself as a small child, back
when my Mother and Father were all-powerful and all-good, my ear pressed
against my Father’s hairy bare chest as he quietly rumbled out a lullaby.
I often calm crises at work by reminding the staff that in a
hundred years none of whatever is causing the crisis will matter, and probably
won’t even be remembered at all. But it’s
hard to practice what I preach. I find
myself cursing at the traffic and scrambling to meet “deadlines,” and getting
worked up over the headlines in the Timeses (New York and L.A.). But when I’m standing all alone in the early
morning looking at a dawn like that, or on a hill looking out over the sea with
a storm building up, or at kittens playing in the “Ponytails” in my front yard,
my proper perspective returns, and I forget all about the petty follies that are
perpetuated by our so-called “modern civilization.”
Thousands of years ago, shepherds used to lie around staring
at the stars in the brilliant night sky around the Mediterranean, and they were
able to pick out the images of gods and heroes, great beasts and timeless
beauties. Now, with all of our
much-vaunted technology, we can see a lot more… but in some ways are able to
see a lot less. Ancient people knew that
every rock and tree and spring had its own spirit, and they took pains to
appreciate and propitiate those spirits, because they recognized that they were
an integral part of Nature, just as we humans are. Now, though, it seems that our LED’s and
halogen headlights have blinded us to the presence of the spirits that abound
in Nature, and that our i-Pods and rap music (and let’s not forget “Fox News”)
have drowned out their voices, too. So
it’s only once in a while, such as when we’re all alone in the still of the
dawn, that we’re even aware of the essence of the world.
The old saying is to the effect that one must take time to “stop
and smell the roses.” I recommend that
you try that, and I personally think that early tomorrow morning would be the
perfect time.
