The following posts were composed at a remote hut in the snow-saturated San Juan mountains on a group trip, late February 2019. This is part one of two. And the first set in a continuing theme of “processing” pieces written while immersed in the self-renewing wilderness systems of precious Colorado.
All of this comes from thoughts.
And the thoughts can be wrong.
Are usually wrong.
Could we imagine natural selection as pertaining to the realm of thoughts?
Why not? Thoughts are biological adaptive devices, biological emanations, organic electrical firings, meant to serve our surviving and thriving. So why wouldn’t they be subject to the same evolutionary processes that, indeed, EDIT? Edit some forms out of existence, and tailor some forms to stay and evolve?
For every despot who strove to etch his names into the minds–and in Genghis Khan’s case, the genes–of people for all time, knows: such historical legacy, infamy, was the ultimate point of their crusades. Some cruel drive to monopolize, colonize the diverse, disparate cultures with their names. Words! The endless uniform propagation of words–the forced importance of themselves, through fear and destruction. The myth of the man made vast enough to scare the world of him, like invoking the name of a god of wrath.
Thoughts made this history. Bodies harbored them. Supremacy was the premise, enabling one to view all other beings as mere soil for planting the One Name upon.
Ironically, this supremacy emerged from existentially precarious people, who desperately sought their personal immortality at any price.
what is the time on the clock of the world?
What is ready to arise now? Soon?
What seeds have been planted, that are deciding to germinate? Now?
What phase shift is occurring?
Well, we know there is massive overlapping of stories. Now, more than ever before, thanks to our connectivity. (And somehow in spite of the legacy impacts of colonization on reducing the genetic and memetic diversity of the planet.)
Isn’t that overlapping of ideas the kind of soil where new life/forms take root?
Soil is the historical process of the deceased bodies of Life slowly breaking down the Unlife of the world, and returning to raw nutrients for the creation and thriving of future life forms. Is that not Love?
Also, is that not the nature of histories? Human, and so verbal/written, on top of physical, conditional, “real” histories? The build-up of soil is isomorphic with the build-up of events, historically written into the strata of this sentient Earth.
Our thoughts exist to tell of the world as it is.
This is not a mystery.
It is biologically determined.
Determined–brought into being–by evolutionary pressures.
We evolved to model the world in our minds.
The more aptly we do so, the more “fit” we find.
Errant cognitive structures should be pruned from the tree of life,
for they model–and reproduce–a warped world.
Let the emergence and dominance of certain strains of culture no longer
hinge on whoever is capable of harnessing the greatest brute force.
But rather, whoever tells the most beautiful and resonant story
about what is, and how to work with it.
Imagination, then, is best applied to figuring out how to be here well.
Imagination serves in two contexts:
- World-building. Envisioning a new world with fresh connections.
- Endurance. Creating myths to help reach the destinations pursued.
May we right our relationship to thinking.
So we may be fresh channels for what wants to happen through us,
and not stay mired in the brambles of functionless fancies.
And not reproduce tired patterns, rooted in shallow strata of self-centeredness.
Not keep cycling around the damage, rather than the nutrients.
And instead, root deeper, and grow trees of understanding
big enough to shelter many.