Monday, October 19, 2015

Awareness and a brick made of mud

Can we be aware of what we don't see? What about phenomena that escape our other senses? What is the dimension of awareness and how do we come to understand it? Is understanding itself necessary or will experience suffice?

This small country of Sri Lanka seems so huge. It is huge in natural treasures, the depth and complexity of its history, the hidden corners in plain sight and the hidden corners overgrown by jungle. You explore one place and there are 10,000 others to see. You explore 10,000 and there remain 1 million. 

Travel is easy but travel is hard. Distances are small but time and circumstance expand them. One place is green and the next place is greener. Even the decision to turn to the right or left stops you in the heat and noise of insects. 

You find one place in shimmering amazement and you are beckoned by the path further and deeper. Inertia and love holds you in thrall of the waves or the gentle lapping waters of a tank or the ripple of a river. 

A brick made of mud is still and stiller mud and the mud moves by turn in a flow or cascade. 

So. Awareness. The song of every corner and vantage. The wriggle of light and shadow in every expanse and fold. The cadence of languages just beyond intelligible to you as a stranger. But as a stranger you are drawn in and welcomed.


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