Anti-Zen

dark beach

We tried again for a nighttime stroll on the beach. As with last time, we had only to get away from the street and the streetlamps, near to the top of the dune, and our night-blind eyes registered only a yawning abyss both in the sky above us and the sprawling sand below. A distant rumble of ocean waves sounding the bass tones of unseen enormity.

We hovered on the crest of the dune for a while, our eyes slowly adjusting, dim shapes taking form around us, a world of subtlety in both shade and hue. We made our way slowly down, across the long stretch of sand, down to the water. We followed its edge a while, the air a-thrum with rhythm, not just the individual waves, the subdued slurping, but tidal vibration too.

The water was slowly creeping up the beach. Things moved in the wind that we could not see. The air felt thick then, like liquid or syrup. No longer some intangible aether but a viscous substance, filling space and flowing. In the dark I imagined I could almost feel its particles, feeling the thickness and the weight of it. There is no real empty space. Everything is full.

We wended our way back home along a beachside path and then down lonely sidewalks, discussing the idea of a pure entity versus this composite body-colony we self, us with our various micro organisms, bacterias, fungi, us leaving bits our ourselves wherever we touch and yet maintaining identity amid multiplicity.

Back at the apartment, I was pulling on my socks, waxing momentarily philosophical. I sometimes lapse into a view of the universe as a stern mother. Which is odd because my mother was never stern, so I don’t really know what that’s like. But there’s stern Mother Universe nonetheless, standing some distance behind me and to my left, arms crossed, watching. She likes to discipline. If you’re careless or overly confident or take things for granted, *crack* and she’ll make you see how foolish you are, how little you really understand.

I hear a faint song though no music is playing. I focus on the light coming through the branches in the picture on the wall. A mouth, no, an entrance into a sacred place …

But that’s not actually what I believe. It’s a just a familiar anxiety loop, one which I’m strong enough now to derail. Breathe. Be self aware. Pull on my socks, and snap to: It’s not necessarily a spiritual journey. It’s not the Universe revealing itself. It’s only your ego, in which you need to take a step back. Be self aware. Remember humility.

lights

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s