The death-throes of planetary collapse are now painfully clear. Global headlines reveal nature’s unleashed cataclysmic energy, with moving images of crowds hording around emergency relief (grain that is reducing in global yield), and, on the other hand, of lifeless androids announcing China’s plan to eliminate the one child policy over threats to its industrial superorgy.
It’s frightening, at least to our minds. Yet somehow, hidden deep within the nature of this human predicament, there is a lesson, purpose, or order that is not yet realized. To understand what is, in its most complete sense, is to observe a beauty or intelligence. It is to recognize and be a part of Truth’s unwavering conviction.
One thing is clear: the West has reached an extraordinary culmination of events, which render our future (as a concept within our minds) a seemingly unpleasant one. There’s a gloomy feeling in the air, one that feels like death — as a force we have unleashed upon ourselves.
Your own lives are in jeopardy. Canada is riding this morbid wave of consciousness just as much as China: Tar sands development is set to expand to proportions that in itself will ensure the demise of industrial civilization (life as we know it), and our own vile psychopath (medically speaking) is determining its social fate.
The whole world has run amok, and the only way to be completely certain of your personal destiny within this dark carnival of death is to commit your hearts and souls on something greater than your current sensual perceptions.
This is the very essence of ancient Greek wisdom. You can only partially find through the pages of Plato and Aristotle, and, if you were stamped by a contemporary institution of some kind, you probably have never heard the names of the great spiritual ancestors that shaped Western tradition and formulated the material systems that now dominate our existence.
It is hidden behind a veil of uncertainty, and even when we do glimpse it, it perpetually flees from awareness. What has happened to wisdom? To the feeling of eternity? Our historical and spiritual amnesia is what creates the anxiety and disease. Our brains have adapted to instrumental rationality and our nerves have adapted to the intensity of electronic stimulation.
However, despair not, say these great beings, for the mere presence of this allusive truth is so powerful and transformative, so fundamental to our current situation, that it instantaneously relieves the anxiety and worry. It liberates our soul with a sentient potency that has been utterly suppressed since the renaissance and, before that, our Greek ancestors — the spiritual tradition from which our whole structure of thought was born.
Cultures have their own history, their own narrative. But are you aware of your own? or do you turn away to the East for ancient wisdom? Can you grapple with the concept of death through our own tradition? by the use of philosophical logic and axiomatic discourse?
What about climate change and the corporate abuse of power? Can you see the intrinsic universal justice that is unfolding before our eyes? Can you place the necessary faith in what is to structure your own life away from the tawdry manipulation of bodily senses — to spontaneously build an existence that ensures moral stability and ethical perfection?
These concepts, which aren’t actually concepts at all, are difficult, indeed almost impossible, to translate into a static reality of words and symbols. This is why the spiritual ancients eschewed the written word, with the exception of some short poetic verses. And as Jesus said in the Essene Gospel of Peace, page 14, second paragraph, when asked about following the laws of Moses:
“And Jesus answered: “Seek not the law in your scriptures, for the law is life, whereas the scripture is dead” …. “The law is living word of living God to living prophets for living men. In everything that is life is the law written. You find it in the grass, in the tree, in the river, in the mountain, in the birds of heaven, in the fishes of the sea; but seek it chiefly in yourselves. For I tell you truly, all living things are nearer to God than the scripture which is without life” …. “God wrote not the laws in the pages of books, but in your heart and in your spirit.””
No wonder the church ruthlessly murdered him.
The collective suffering we face as one species (a species described as a biological medium through which the universe experiences itself), as a species yearning for something greater, is a suffering born of darkness. And through this chasm of darkness, this collapsing house of cards, will come a new phase in human consciousness. A phase that does not condemn the past … but understands it.
Tristan A. Shaw is a 22 year-old student who is a prolific reader and writer on issues concerning the state of governance in North America. He resides in British Columbia, Canada, and can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.