Another Choice

And one has even perceived a foundation, as yet inaccessible to our sensorial apparatus, which is timeless.

And “us”?

Shadows, puppets and funambulists, of which time are we the hostages?

Our physical mind functions according to minutes and seconds and, in the time of a single tedious thought, thousand incidents occur here and there within our body.

And so, willy-nilly, from one thought to another or catapulted chaotically according to external or internal stimuli, we do pass the time: and our eyelids wrinkle and our cheeks sag and our waist thickens, the gleam of vigor fades away and we “mature” and then we shrink and wilt just as, after all, everyone else, isn’t that so, like the dragonflies and azalea, the rhinoceros and the shark, just like our neighbor, it is so, yes, there goes life!

***

And yet, and yet, have we not met, in our very body itself, another Life, a life that grows and progresses, that loves and aspires and knows this joy calling, this magnet of joy and plenitude waving and signing ahead in the distance, ahead but here, here itself in the concrete world, in the material creation? And have we not already many a time, struggling with some sudden physical difficulty – a “serious” disease or a brutal “accident” – found within our very body this force of trust, sure and tranquil like a magic balm and almost a laugh, a calm jubilance that knows, knows all can be repaired, restored and harmonized anew, that knows the difficulty not only can be vanquished but can also be fecund of progress, of an increase in consciousness and capacity?

***

But here we are: we are heavy and we are grey!

The ego of separation has thus made our physical consciousness an opaque weight which always takes us back into the troubled deeps of a great, of a long fatigue.

241