Thursday, January 18, 2007 at 2:02am
Beyond the door of truth
Column: Our Place in the Universe
Everyone has their own private hellhole. And every religion and philosophy has its own key to opening the door to let you out. Often, however, the problem is not that we don't have truth in our lives; it's being able to walk through the door, applying the truth, and face the vast expanse beyond. It is that emptiness (that I spoke of last week) that becomes the proving ground for our growth and development, as an individual and as a species.
It's easy to see the character trait in humans that enabled us to challenge or conquer what is over the next hill. It is what pushed the primitive human out of the forests onto the plains. Larger, faster, better-equipped animals forced Homo sapiens to stand upright, to outthink and outmaneuver prey. We developed our intellect and intuition to stay alive and flourish in a harsh environment.
We learned to appreciate other beings in the world around us, praying for the strength of the lion, the cunning of the wolf, the patience of the crocodile. We worshiped the sun and the moon because it was obvious that their qualities and influence were vastly greater than our own. We learned the healing and restorative properties of herb, leaf and bark.
Not so much to be feared as to be respected, we knew the land, and — although we wandered — with all of its surprises and challenges, the land was home. The push continued over the millennia as humankind traveled through Africa, Europe and Asia, crossing the great seas, gradually shifting purpose and focus to domination and control, rather than respect and learning.
Periodically there would be upsurges of enlightenment. Human spirituality would flourish in men and women such as Lao Tzu, Buddha, Jesus, Francis of Assisi, Julianne of Norwich, Hildegard von Bingen, Muhammad (PBUH), Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr. and Mother Teresa. Their message was one of peace and service, reminding us that the unknown territory within ourselves was the larger challenge to uncover, discover and control.
What greater challenge is there than to look at yourself and find that you've kept yourself in a box of ignorance or walled yourself in with habits of hate — that the hill you believed you were conquering with a message of good will and rhetoric of compassion was only a virtual reality? I think, for me, the most insidious block to growth is the response that embraces "best of intentions" or "doing my best." How about "it's for your own good"? We all find ourselves with this mindset at one time or another. I know I do.
Growth implies breaking out of the shell; spreading roots deep into the ground in all directions; reaching branches and leaves up toward the light; receiving nutrients, life-giving elements from others. It involves stretching, breaking barriers and going beyond boundaries. A planted seed doesn't stay in the box once you've opened the door.
We allow ourselves to be fed by a truth — be it in church, temple, synagogue, or mosque, through newspaper, TV or discussion. Even our own habits and thoughts feed our actions. It seems though, that our education was enhanced and completed when our Mother Earth taught us her ways, when we learned our place in this universe by observing the cycles of nature in all of their intricate diversity. It is more than a lifetime of learning — it requires generation upon generation of inter-community relationships. I cannot know what is inside me until I know where I am and who lives in this place alongside me. I cannot know how to grow fully until I observe the principles of creation.
I cannot face the vast, ever-expanding "Final Frontier" without facing the possibility of an eternal heart and soul that cannot be bound by the limitations of my body or mind. Paradoxically, this eternal soul exists within the confines of my physical body. I can't make the mistake of taking myself, my ideas, my labels, my truths, as anything but a small part of this infinite whole. However, the whole is contained within this small self.
Here is another axiom to go along with my realization that to take on the shape of the Beloved, I must be empty and I must be filled: For my infinite spirit to grow and fill the emptiness, it needs my small mind and hands of flesh. With them I open the door, but I also need to go through, living a life of love, filling my lungs with the breath of the spirit, igniting the fire of life and spreading the water of healing.
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.
—John Muir
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad
It's easy to see the character trait in humans that enabled us to challenge or conquer what is over the next hill. It is what pushed the primitive human out of the forests onto the plains. Larger, faster, better-equipped animals forced Homo sapiens to stand upright, to outthink and outmaneuver prey. We developed our intellect and intuition to stay alive and flourish in a harsh environment.
We learned to appreciate other beings in the world around us, praying for the strength of the lion, the cunning of the wolf, the patience of the crocodile. We worshiped the sun and the moon because it was obvious that their qualities and influence were vastly greater than our own. We learned the healing and restorative properties of herb, leaf and bark.
Not so much to be feared as to be respected, we knew the land, and — although we wandered — with all of its surprises and challenges, the land was home. The push continued over the millennia as humankind traveled through Africa, Europe and Asia, crossing the great seas, gradually shifting purpose and focus to domination and control, rather than respect and learning.
Periodically there would be upsurges of enlightenment. Human spirituality would flourish in men and women such as Lao Tzu, Buddha, Jesus, Francis of Assisi, Julianne of Norwich, Hildegard von Bingen, Muhammad (PBUH), Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr. and Mother Teresa. Their message was one of peace and service, reminding us that the unknown territory within ourselves was the larger challenge to uncover, discover and control.
What greater challenge is there than to look at yourself and find that you've kept yourself in a box of ignorance or walled yourself in with habits of hate — that the hill you believed you were conquering with a message of good will and rhetoric of compassion was only a virtual reality? I think, for me, the most insidious block to growth is the response that embraces "best of intentions" or "doing my best." How about "it's for your own good"? We all find ourselves with this mindset at one time or another. I know I do.
Growth implies breaking out of the shell; spreading roots deep into the ground in all directions; reaching branches and leaves up toward the light; receiving nutrients, life-giving elements from others. It involves stretching, breaking barriers and going beyond boundaries. A planted seed doesn't stay in the box once you've opened the door.
We allow ourselves to be fed by a truth — be it in church, temple, synagogue, or mosque, through newspaper, TV or discussion. Even our own habits and thoughts feed our actions. It seems though, that our education was enhanced and completed when our Mother Earth taught us her ways, when we learned our place in this universe by observing the cycles of nature in all of their intricate diversity. It is more than a lifetime of learning — it requires generation upon generation of inter-community relationships. I cannot know what is inside me until I know where I am and who lives in this place alongside me. I cannot know how to grow fully until I observe the principles of creation.
I cannot face the vast, ever-expanding "Final Frontier" without facing the possibility of an eternal heart and soul that cannot be bound by the limitations of my body or mind. Paradoxically, this eternal soul exists within the confines of my physical body. I can't make the mistake of taking myself, my ideas, my labels, my truths, as anything but a small part of this infinite whole. However, the whole is contained within this small self.
Here is another axiom to go along with my realization that to take on the shape of the Beloved, I must be empty and I must be filled: For my infinite spirit to grow and fill the emptiness, it needs my small mind and hands of flesh. With them I open the door, but I also need to go through, living a life of love, filling my lungs with the breath of the spirit, igniting the fire of life and spreading the water of healing.
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.
—John Muir
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad