“Change is constant. Everything we do, everything that happens, is a reaction to it and absolutely nothing is immune from it. Every single change, no matter how minute, effects every other one, before and after it occurs. The place where heart and mind meet, 1+1=1. We are everything.” Me
A few mornings ago, in the midst of my obsessive-compulsive yoga practice, I stepped off the mat in the middle of my opening handful of sun salutations, to scribble the above few lines on the back of a receipt for an original piece of jewelry for my grandson, a story for another time, a really good one.
Over the years I’ve been doing this writing thing, I have focused my attention on what’s going on inside and every now and then, the outside world manages to intrude. Beyond my own limited borders, this is a time of transition, taking stock of where we’ve been and a gentle peek ahead to where we may be going. I have no interest in getting sucked into the mire of what was, nor do I care about soaring into the world of possibility at this time.
This is without a doubt an apocryphal chapter in the story of this country, while, at the same time, the world we live in is not sitting quietly by, waiting for us to find our spiritual navel. Knowing it is simply not possible for me to ignore where we are. What the hell do I have to say that wouldn’t make me feel nauseous in hindsight? Can I write a story that leaves out the names Trump and Biden and the looming straight jacket of planetary adversities?
Political commentary is not my bag, nor is annoying people with the babble of self-righteous indignation. Yes, I do have opinions and am more likely to share them on my podcast, because it feels more comfortable there. I sometimes fantasize about what I would say if people really cared, if it really mattered. In the complete privacy that resides between my ears, the words above are what I heard myself sharing with my millions of imaginary followers. They embody the journey of my small life, looking for my own magical equation.
For the past bunch of decades, I have been on the lookout for those messages that stir up the longing for answers that quietly rest, inches from my consciousness at all times. Without getting bogged down in the specifics, I read a fabulous story about a scientist, who tried to quantify the odds of our planet actually happening. Creating thousands and thousands of models of infinite possibilities, he could not justify how this planet survived the countless number of variables that should have destroyed it. Over billions of years, Earth has managed to the thread the needle of destiny. Ultimately, his explanation was luck, because there was no other. Science, too, runs out of rope in our tug of war with quantifying the meaning of life.
When I was a kid, I thought E=MC2, was like the answer to all questions. Science was king and would ultimately lead the way to immeasurable certitude, completely repudiating religion, which had its own scenarios for the enigmatic mysteries that seem to defy all logic. My view has changed with the years, giving way to ambiguity and its cousin, possibility.
I imagine Einstein and the Buddha, sitting down for shots of tequila. I would bet there’d be no debate about who was right. I think they would look each other in the eye, inhale deeply, then gently exhale. They would hug, eyes filled with tears, no words necessary.
We have spent the last few years looking at our feet, too weighted down to fly toward the horizon of tomorrow. To me, it feels like the dust is slowly clearing, calling upon all of us to open our eyes, to see where we are and what we are in danger of becoming.
We are in this together, kind of like a Noah’s Ark of the imagination. If you are reading this, you already have a reservation on it. The interesting thing about the passenger list is that everyone and everything that ever was and ever will be is seated right next to you. Those of us who know that, you and me, have a responsibility to the rest of them. We have got to chart a different course, or those sentient beings, waiting to be birthed and board, will have nowhere to go, drowning in our shortsightedness.
This is a time of promise and possibility, with much work to be done. We are everything.
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