The Peace of Wild Things: Or, A Genius is the One Most Like Himself

My plan, then, in so far as the negation of all effort and purpose may be said to be a plan, is to stop evolving, to remain what I am and to become more and more only what I am – that is, to become more miraculous.
~Henry Miller

We should not for a moment consider even our best-established knowledge of existence as true. It is awareness only of the colors that our own vision paints on the film of one bubble, in one strand of foam, on the ocean of being.
~Olaf Stapledon

I like to hear the sound of form, and I like to hear the sound of it breaking.
~Frederick Seidel

A genius is the one most like himself.
~Thelonious Monk

If I’ve ever “accomplished” anything in my work as an energetic intuitive/facilitator, it’s been pointing the people I work with back not to their own true north, but to the unfailing compass within. True north–and nearly all truths–are relative, depending on where we’re located within space/time and a wide variety of of other factors. The compass within allows us to center in the unfailing truth of the impermanence and interdependence of all phenomena, as well as the unfailing truth of the empty, luminous, and infinite nature of all being.

That said, Reality has never before–and will never again–express itself as you. Funny that “you” are always changing, but even then, we often discover ourselves as a flavor that deepens in its richness in the simmering. We may also discover that our singular flavor is actually a composite of ingredients–and yet, those ingredients have never combined in this way before.

I could write in metaphor all day and still not fully paint or point to this extraordinary play of color and geometry, sound and rhythm that springs from the eternal, great emptiness that some term “zero point.”  We must discover it within and, ironically, that discovery often means a great unraveling of nearly everything we ever thought to be true–about ourselves and this whole construct we call “reality.”

We have entered a time in which each of us are called to be ourselves fully–more truly and yes, often more strange–than perhaps we ever imagined possible or deemed desirable.  This is the original returning to the wild darkness and the untamed light and it is asking of you to live it fully and embodied. How you live this will not look like how anyone has ever lived it.  No one will grant you permission to do this or be this in the world.  You will sometimes appear to walk alone. There will be no road maps to this kind of freedom, but the compass within will unfailingly lead you to the true north that is truest for you–moment by moment.

Where then–or what then–is true north if even that, too, is an ever-changing location?  It is a place I call The Peace of Wild Things.  I’ll meet you there.

birdwomen

Ancient Roman/African tile mosaic depicting bird-women. Photo taken at the Bardo National Museum in Tunis, Tunisia.

With thanks to the poet Wendell Berry who, many years ago, brought to my heart the phrase ” peace of wild things,” where it has remained nestled and honored.

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