When Spring comes forth in a whirl of green,
the world is in awe of this ethereal dance –
the magic, like that of a husband
giving a loving kiss to his wife.Sprouts and leaves and flowers burst into bloom,
but nothing is softer than the heat from your skin.
All I can do is stay a worshiper of light
half asleep in the afternoon sun.You’re an evergreen Spring day every morning,
spreading sunlight…
Why following your dreams sucks
Thanks to the digitization of our world and the constant pressure to make everything more accessible and online, we’re offered opportunities to better ourselves on the daily. With ad placements on our social media, affiliate links in the articles and blog posts we write and read, with the cookies that follow us wherever we go, we get profiled more than the unsubs of Criminal Minds.
Trust me,…
In the series of God’s Fingernail, we’ve thought about why we might feel dislocated from the universe we’re supposed to belong in, and what we can do about it.
We’ve looked at the possible existence of souls, and how they are tied not only to our past, but to our creation. You can find part one, two and three here.
Let’s conclude our thoughtfulness.
In these texts, we’ve thought alot about our existence. In a nutshell, we’ve dwelled on the idea of feeling dislocated from reality because parts of us is as old as time. There is chaos in the world, in the universe, and in us, and it’s been there since the very beginning of our universe. But chaos is not necessarily only a bad thing. It’s just slightly unpredictable, and it’s unknown to us.
We can get to know it, though. To understand, to accept, and to some extent tame the chaos, we’ll have to dig deep into the core of your heart and soul and find out what resides there. The way in which you figure this out is your own responsibility. I don’t think there’s any right or wrong. But society, and our narrow viewpoint of living and existing, might say otherwise. I hope you can drown out that doubt, and do what you feel is right.
Humans are very much alike one another. We all just want to belong, and to be happy. But we’re getting distracted by social media and social norms and events that turn our lives around. We try to become more than we are, without knowing at the core what it is we’re trying to change.
There’s a duality here that we need to address, much like childhood trauma and other issues one might have. Maybe the duality stems from a past that’s been split up. That we somewhere along we the way forgot what we are and where we come from. Perhaps we’re all trying to find our way back to where we belong.
Psychology, sociology and biology teaches us that it’s good to belong. One of the main reason for putting children in kindergarten is to integrate them into society, so they’ll grow to fit in. In fact, a clear role and some social expectations are supposedly great for the psyche. Physics, on the other hand, has taught us that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s a Karmic idea, and also practically Newtonian. If society has reached its proverbial Hayflick limit, isn’t a tumour the next probable step? Have we done this to ourselves?
Maybe. But that’s rather the beauty of it, too. Despite what religion says, there hasn’t been given any manual on how to be a good person. Whether we stem from primeval gods of chaos or not, our choices how to deal with our troubles are and remain just that – our own. And with the roaring uprising of information, and the possibility to share that information, we have a chance to change our ways and maybe stop splitting up, and instead come together.
Pink rats may be the product of delirium; but real rats do exist;
and can be dyed for thaumaturgic purposes.
/ R. Lowe Thompson
Many classic brands of liquor – gin, brandy, tequila – were originally created for a medical purpose. They were developed in monasteries (when Dom Perignon first tasted champagne, he exclaimed to the other monks, “come fast! I’ve tasted the stars!”) in order to heal. Wine and beer were safer to drink than water in most places, and the alcohol percentage could clean wounds.
As we all well know, the intoxicating beverages are primarily used for recreational purposes today. But their origin is still important to keep in mind, and so is our own.
However, I do neither believe in the romantic notion of destiny nor in the monotheistic idea of one right path. I believe in creation and creating the life and the self wanted, and that wanting means needing. Still, what we need is very little, in the end. This is what subconsciously confuses many; the conflict of wanting much, despite needing only little.
This might confuse us from what we’re really meant to do or be. Social media and our abundant global society with all its options in all its grandeur in all honour, but they might muddle the waters a bit. Still, if we evolve through social media, so be it. A digitized self is still a self, and perhaps that one is actually closer to the (cyber-)Heavens that we know.
In the preface I asked, “why me?”. Why do I have a sense of purpose to write, and to peek behind the curtain of what I know? The answer I’ve found is that I feel a need to map out my train of thought, and to pull out all the stops on the way. If writing these papers have achieved nothing else, I’ve realized I really like the thought of being part of the cosmos, no matter how old parts of my soul is and where it has been before. I don’t really care where it’s been. It’s here now. And so am I, and you, and everything else. Isn’t that kind of wonderful?
As I’m putting down the finishing touches on these pages, I’m ignoring the pain in my back and too long hours heavy on my eyes, the Lucky Cat by the door silently clicking away the only sound I hear. But putting together these last sentences only ends this particular train of thought. Something stays with me, this unnamed restlessness reminding me to never surrender. It’s scratching away deep inside.
Perhaps it’s God’s fingernail.
So, what do you think? Let me know in the comments below, and feel free to share on Facebook and Twitter. Don’t forget to subscribe to to stay updated on my scribbles.
God’s fingernail; Conclusion In the series of God’s Fingernail, we’ve thought about why we might feel dislocated from the universe we’re supposed to belong in, and what we can do about it.This is the third part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head. This chapter is about the existence of souls, and their construction. You can read part one here, and part two here.
The magic notion which is supposed to bridge the gap between the mental and the physical is information.
/ Bernard Lonergan
Earlier in this series we’ve thought about why we exist the way we do, and if there’s perhaps a reason why we sometimes might feel lost without apparent reason. We’ve looked into the beginning of our existence, of how chaos and creation might coexist in the universe and therefore in us as well.
Now, we’ll look into the red line that might tie the present us together with all other living beings throughout history, back to the beginning: our souls. We’ll speak of souls as an energy that resides within every living being, and the energy somewhat defines the character of said being.
The belief in the existence of souls, or something very like, has exuded throughout human history. Italian Dominican friar and Catholic priest St Thomas Aquinas describes the “intellectual soul” as opposed to the strictly “vegetative” and “animal” souls of living but nonthinking being as following:
The intellect has an operation in which the body has no share, as has been shown, from which it is clear that it can act on its own initiative. Therefore, it is a substance subsisting in its own being.
Much like the ancient Egyptians, St Thomas Aquinas considered the soul to be a substance on its own, even though it resides within another substance. Proposing that it cannot is called “soft dualism” (a term coined by philosopher Richard Swinburne); immortality would not be a necessity of the soul despite its subconscious independence from its host.
The mind is essentially intentional. There is no ‘problem of knowledge’ or ‘problem of the external world’, there is no problem about how we get to ‘extramental’ reality, because the mind should never be separated from reality from the beginning. Mind and being are moments to each other; they are not pieces that can be segmented out of the whole to which they belong.
/ Robert Sokolowski
Whether the soul is part of the body or not, one can wonder how much of the soul makes up the conscious self. Can the body, if completely material, form an identity and a thinking entity simply with biological functions?
Self-aware consciousness is a quality few species in addition to humans have. It’s the ability to rather objectively be aware of having a conscious mind, for example simply knowing that you, the self, are awake when you’re awake. Different stimuli bringing out different memories which respond both consciously and subconsciously. Now, this makes me wonder: can cells and magnetism do the same, but on a micro-level? (And is this gut-feeling disguised?)
Armstrong and others point out that if the origin of the soul is postulated by dualism in the continuum of biological evolution, it is difficult to identify the source of such a dramatic leap in the progress of evolution, difficult also to locate a moment when this leap took place given the data available about the rise of species.
/ Richard J. Bernier
An alluring thought would be following the ancient Egyptian’s predilection for logic. In their myths there is no such thing as a clear creation of man, unlike in Christian mythology. The Egyptians saw no dividing line between gods and men; they believed that once a creation came into being it could freely evolve, whether it would become a god, demigod, spirit or man. This notion is practically Darwinian, but the very first beginning of the soul would still remain unveiled.
As we already know, depending on the particular view a soul can be seen as more of a substance or something more abstract, as part of a body, or simply inhabiting it. Physics teaches us that nothing disappears, but simply changes form; if the soul is not bound by the body it inhabited, what happens after death? Can it be split into smaller pieces, despite its form, or is its mass definite so it continues as a whole? Is it floating around, or has it a defined path? Can one soul imprint on others?
The most severe cases of retardation or advanced irreversible progressive dementia (e.g., Alzheimer’s disease) only hinder the expression of the invisible soul, which in fact still exists in all its eternal value under the veneer of confusion. Therefore (so the argument would go) caregivers need never think that their loved one is no longer present, that they have before them only a ‘shell’ or ‘husk’ or ‘half-empty’ glass. Indeed the glass is still full because the soul is still there, even if camouflaged by neurological devastation.
/ Stephen Post
The picture is called “The Mystery of the Human Mind” or “The Philosophical Brain”. It’s the artwork of hermetic artist Robert Fludd (1574-1637). Here he tried illustrating the way in which “the celestial world enters into the cranium”.
The man’s face is divided into three “worlds”: the forehead, being the divine; the nose and eyes form a triangle with the forehead and the mouth make the physical world; the material world is the inverted triangle based on the jaw and the chin. The picture illustrates Fludd’s impression of how celestial forces impact the brain and its functions.
It’s based on microcosm (op. macrocosm), the Greek Neo-Platonic schema of seeing patterns reproduced in all levels of the cosmos. The concept has been adopted by sociology, and despite the social construction behind the science, repetition and symmetry is found throughout history and science.
It’s an aspect I’ve tried to emphasize: that even though it may seem unlikely, repetition and patterns may occur throughout our existence; from the structure of our cells to the movements of the celestial bodies, to the parallels of mythical figures and events supposedly creating, forming and upholding the universe as we know it.
In Sufism, Islamic mysticism, the dominant idea of the soul is called nafs, means breath, animal life, soul, spirit, self, individual, substance and essence. It is often translated (and simplified) as “soul”, but the word has limited theological and metaphysical associations and does not represent the depth and breath and the psychological meaning of the concept of nafs.
Sufis believe there are different nafses. All living things, in addition to their mineral or inorganic sate, have nafs or several nafses, depending on their level of development in the circle of evolution. The difference in these nafses are recognized by their energies and functions.
There are vegetative nafs (nafs-i- nebāti), which are the most basic existing in all living things; nutrition, growth and reproduction are all manifestations of this nafs. The next stage of development is the animal nafs (nafs-i- haiwāni), which consists of two major forces: driving forces and the perceptual forces.
The driving force (qūwat-i- muharrika), quwā meaning forces, energies and powers, and muharrika meaning impulse, stimuli and that which induces action and movement. These are the sensual force (quwāt-i- shahwāni), a sexual or libidinous force, and the rage force, (qūwat-i- ghazabi), the force of rage, anger and aggression.
Nafs is perceived as a concrete entity; a totem beast, if you will. It’s the most truthful self, and therefore primal and untamed. The approach to this “animal within” is not to kill or destroy it, but to develop the ability of harnessing its energy for further psychospiritual growth.
Sufis believe it’s an illusion to see human beings as different and separate from nature and the universe. It’s an illusion of distorted values, and preoccupation with having and possessing rather than with living and being, or as it’s called in Western terms, social construction. I’m proposing that it is possible to be aware of the presumed patterns of our cosmos, and to feel connected (or disconnected) to them.
Peace and unity with oneself and one’s nafses cannot be achieved without understanding two other factors; fanā and ishq.
Fanā means passing away, vanishing, annihilation and nothingness; can be translated as “freedom from the self” or “loss of self”. It’s funny, as a Western student familiar with Durkheim’s Suicide, “loss of self” sounds almost too dystopic because of the clang of anemia, but in the East “loss of self” means the utopia opposite. Fanā is, swiftly explained, a feeling of being light, as though all burdens of the world has been lifted, and a general feeling of oneness with all.
Freedom of the self means primarily a gradual quiescence of one’s wishes and desires. It’s not a feeling of lonely helplessness with no context. Fanā can only be achieved by (and emphasize on) total absorption in the task at hand much like complete flow. Maturity and freedom occur in human beings by returning to one’s origin.
… Everything in the world of existence has an end and a goal. The end is maturity and the goal is freedom. For example, fruit grows on the tree until it is ripe and then falls. The ripened fruit represents maturity and the fallen fruit freedom.
/ Nasafi
Forgetting our origin in nature is a tendency to avoid the sadness and anxieties of separation, which results in hijāb (veiling, concealing, and specifically, ignorance). According to Sufism, ignorance is by far the worst possible punishment, way worse than hell. One of the great early authors of Sufism, Ali al- Tirmidhí, wrote explicitly that “you wish to know God while your lower soul subsists in you; but your lower soul does not know itself, how should it know another?”
Clearly, throughout history and beyond cultures, an idea of the benefits of deep self-knowledge has been preserved. Despite his flaws, Maslow’s inspiring epitome of being human is
… experiencing fully, vividly, selflessly, with full concentration and total absorption; […] letting one’s true self emerge rather than being enslaved by parental or societal expectations; honesty at a time of doubt; […] discovering one’s strengths, shortcomings, and pathological defense mechanisms, and finding effective ways of freeing the self from defensive postures, allowing oneself to experience […] the sacred, the eternal, the symbolic.
Personally, I believe that souls do exist, and that they remember an ocean of events our conscious selves will have great difficulty tapping into. This would mean that knowledge and experience from many years past reside within us, and perhaps the only way to access it is to adapt a mindful, deep connection to the very core of your being.
Without growing religious or diving into new age-methods of mindfulness, we’ll look further into this cosmic self-discovery in the conclusion. So far we’ve considered our place in the universe, and how we relate to it and everything it contains. We’ve taken a fleeting look at how our souls fit into all this, and how to perhaps learn to know yourself a little better.
In the conclusion, we’ll look into understanding the primal chaos we may be carrying in our DNA. We’ll think about how to better understand and accept said chaos, and hopefully tie it into the nice little bow I promised so long ago.
What do you think about all this? Do you believe in the existence of souls? Tell me in the comments below.
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God’s Fingernail, part three The Soul Catch: what are we made of? This is the third part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head.This is the second part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head. In this part, I dig into how chaos and reality came to be and co-exists, and how we perceive them. You can read part one here.
In Professor Stephen Hawking’s (rest in peace, old boy) brilliant book A Brief History of Time, he explains some of the deepest and darkest secrets and phenomena of outer space in a wonderfully witty way. I recommend the book with my whole heart (you can find it on Amazon here), but I’m afraid I’m a romantic at heart, and I do believe there are two sides to every story. I believe in energies that can be traced and channeled, and though I believe in evolution and the Big Bang, I’m not entirely convinced that’s the whole story. So I dug into the other, decorated source: folklore.
Myth may be elaborated legends without much truth to them, but they effectively formed the everyday life of the ancient man, and any sociologist known his/her salt should know that the belief of a person very much forms what that person sees and perceives in everyday life, making even a perhaps false idea very real to that person.
For instance, in some cultures like the Egyptian, they were quite keen on a literal sense of their myths. The annual sacrifice to the Nile hoped to ensure another year of prosperous harvest, yet the sacrifice included an actual, legally binding, document.
Death itself was thought of as a substantial reality, and life was considered endless, until the phenomenon, or substance, of death was given to man. The substance known as death was inherent in all who are dead, or about to die. Death, or ma’at, literally translates to “justice” or “equity”, according to the reasoning of where there is change, there is a cause; and a cause is a will.
In Egyptian mythology, the creation marks the dividing line between preceding confusion and present order. It is not implied that the creator-god conquered and annihilated the elements of chaos and set the elements of order in their place. In fact, the sun-god Atum was self-created, simply emerging from nothing; his name means “everything”, “nothing”, and “what is finished, completed, perfected”.
With a sarcastic strike at Pythagoras, he added “the learning of many things teacheth not understanding”. Despite the sandbox-like fight between ancient philosophers, we’ll keep those words in mind.
On behalf of chaos, it means that there is an eternal existence of evil that a) do not follow the rules set by order (this could function as an allegory for self-consciousness; being aware of yourself does not necessarily mean you’re in charge of your primal and instinct reactions), and b) is part of an unfinished scheme, since Atum completed creation. Whether chaos is part of something greater unknown, or simply a defect cast aside, remains unclear.
Serving as an example of nature’s (and man’s) predilection for symmetry and the eternal quest for order in disorder, I’ve decided to highlight parts of ancient mythology as well as pointing out striking similarities cultures apart.
Primeval waters (bodies of water occur in all kinds of mythologies, presumably because of its everyday presence in everyone’s lives as well as the mystery behind river’s and ocean’s strength, depth and behavior) were, according to ancient Egyptian belief, inhabited by eight creatures, four frogs and fours snakes, and these formed chaos.
Chaos is essentially an irregular oscillatory process. Basically, it’s defined by three characteristics; irregularity, sensitivity to initial conditions and lack of predictability. Science has mapped chaos mathematically and the social sciences followed suit. Ancient definitions, however, were far more substantial.
Egyptian mythology highlights the patterns that were to be found within chaos; they emphasize logical implications and practical solutions. Before creation, a group called Ogdoad were in being, not as part of created order, but of chaos itself. Out of the formless chaos the creator-god Atum brought order out of, also came Ogdoad, the four pairs of chaos (funnily enough, nature’s apparent love for symmetry shines through: even chaos is neatly paired off into couples).
(Note that the masculine and feminine form of the names. The consort is simply an extension of the self and they are, by all means, one.)
The parallels to the Hebrew Book of Genesis are fascinating, differing on the god complex: the Egyptian god emerging on his own accord, while the Hebrew god existed alongside the chaos. Whether Atum came into being later than the chaos is unknown, or if he, like Isaiah, existed alongside the chaos, before forming order. However, the existence of these chaotic Egyptian gods does not end because of creation; it lives on, but in its specific place, and not as a formless disorder. And so came order out of chaos.
However, there are repetitions seen worldwide. Obsession occurs when a person simply cannot get something off their mind. As familiar, it can be another person, a TV-series, or a personal goal. On a more macro-level in mythology, there also occur obsessive repetitions: the four elements (water, air, fire and earth) make countless appearances, either as gods or as independent forces. Powerful waters and the destruction of chaos are also recurring themes.
Yes, this is all ancient myth, but myth reveals metaphysical truth; it was as experienced as real as material life, therefore it was real. It was a Placebo effect at its best. It illustrates the patterns and struggles of the ancient man, and when modified into modern terms they hardly feel or seem alien.
We humans we fear what we don’t know. The caution we might feel when treading closer to the more primal and untamed parts of ourselves is, if not justified, then at least explained. The chaotic creation is important. If our souls and cells have been split up since the dawn of time, there must be imprints of this chaos in us to this day, if one chooses to believe such things. Which I do.
Whatever is capable of affecting the mind, feeling or will, has established its reality. One can say that dreams as real as impressions achieved when awake (I believe David Lynch would agree with me). Most of our daily observations are led by social constructions, and dreams are insights to our subconscious, kind of ‘from me to me’-sort of gift. We get back from our subconscious what we put in.
Then perhaps dreams could be more reliable sources on how we actually experience the world, if interpreted correctly. Now, I don’t think we should dive into the occult shelves in bookstores and try our hardest to become modern day gypsy women hovering over dusty crystal balls. I just think we could all spend some time to get more in tune with what’s happening in the deepest corners of our hearts, and maybe start there.
Dreams are usually somewhat chaotic, and if they’re peeks into our subconscious selves, perhaps it’s a good idea to start by practicing to listen to what we have to say to ourselves, before digging any deeper.
This far, we may have a sneaking suspicion of where we came from. We’re part of this world and another, and we belong in both. Parts of us are new and innovative, others are older than time. We might carry traces of ancient chaos in our DNA.
What do you think? Are we’re slipping further away from our chaotic reality, or just learning to embrace it? Can you feel the prickling feelings of ancient chaos through your body when you write, when you dance, when you walk the streets at night?
We might have some idea where we come from. There’s a tiny sliver of a chance we’re part ancient chaos. In the next chapter, we’ll explore the possibilities of what we are made of, and how these two ideas fit together.
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God’s Fingernail, part two Constructing Reality: the duet of chaos and creation This is the second part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head.This is the first part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head. This first part is about the loneliness of not belonging.
Since the dawn on time mankind has tried to justify its existence, which seems easiest once finding a purpose for living, and fulfilling said purposes (I do realize this is easier said than done). Humans are curious animals, and we’ve always seemed to asked one question above all: why?
As a restless soul myself, I can relate. To give myself some peace of mind, I have after more than a decade of tossing and turning, coined a term to describe the internal struggle of looking for balance in your existence. It’s a hypothesis I like to call the Rag Doll Theory.
The Rag Doll Theory is simply enough explained. It’s the idea that everyone belongs somewhere, despite how torn, lost and shredded one may feel. Every person belongs to a number of other people. As we all originate from the same organisms, we belong together despite the ocean of time and evolution that has passed, since we shared the same source.
The Theory is based on the premise of a cell being repeatedly split up into tinier structures that form new life (that a liver cell can consist a cell that used to be an eye or a plant etc), making human life smaller and bigger at the same time, ripped and torn and searching for someone similar. It would also explain reincarnation and the multiplied growth in human population.
This psychic life is the mind of our ancient ancestors… As the body is a sort of museum of its phylogenetic history, so is the mind. There is no reason for believing that the psyche, with its peculiar structure, is the only thing in the world that has no history beyond its individual manifestation… It is only individual egoconsciousness that has forever a new beginning and an early end. But the unconscious psyche is not only immensely old, it is also able to grow unceasingly into an equally remote future.
/ Carl Jung
According to Sufi philosophy, the conscious should be considered a cup, and the unconscious should be considered the ocean (much like Freud’s euphemism of the tip of the iceberg – again, symmetry). How could the whole ocean possible fit into a cup, seeing as the ocean is collectively nature, unconscious Reality as well as God?
Once the individual learn to lose the limitation of the cup and therefore freeing him/herself, it can be reunited with the ocean of being. Although a return to the water seemingly means a loss of identity, it gains the permanency of the everlasting ocean.
In conclusion, the Ragdoll Theory is the idea that everyone belongs to someone, but that it’s probably several people of different creed, race and age, and that these people will rotate around each other until the end of days. True happiness can only be achieved by finding these people and unconditionally welcoming them into your life, however briefly. Isn’t it a romantic and sad idea?
Seeing as it is a nearly impossible mission, there are ways to push the search along; to ease this quest, or at least not make it harder. It’s learning to be truthful to oneself, and the humongous accomplishment that is in itself, with the subconscious forces of the self as well as the added complications of the soul and its cosmic past.
Let’s presume the soul and mind is an ancient part of our bodily existence, and wonder if souls perhaps can contain more than our individual experience. The past, whether it’s organized or chaotic, would be ever present in our subconscious.
And it just makes me wonder, if past and present braided be – how tightly are the strands tied, and how far back can we trace them? And what exactly might we find in this ancient past of ours?
We’ll find out more in part two, where we look into the beginning of our time. Some would call it Creation, other would say the Big Bang. I just say, that’s where we started then, and that’s where we’ll continue now.
What do you think? Is this wishful thinking at its best, or is there a slight possibility we might belong to certain people? Let me know in the comments below!
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God’s Fingernail, part one The Rag Doll Theory This is the first part of my series God’s Fingernail, which digs into this scraping urge I feel to map out some obscure parts of existence I can’t seem to get out of my head.How to beat writer’s block in 5 easy steps
It’s the most dreaded experience a writer can have. Once, you had an idea, a dream. You couldn’t let it go. Around it, you built sandcastles in the air, tied plot lines to it, made unique characters come to life. You discovered something marvelous, and you just need to translate it to words. You sit down to write. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. The excitation, the inspiration, the…
The interesting thing about skeptics, atheists,
is that we’re always looking for proof, certainty.
The question is, what on earth would we do if we found it?
There are times when I experience a total loss of faith.
Days, months, when I don’t know what I believe in:
God, or the Devil, Santa Claus, or Tinker Bell.
But, I’m just a man. I’m a weak man. I have no power.
Yet, there’s something that keeps digging and scraping away, inside me.
Feels like God’s fingernail.
And finally I can take no more of the pain,
and I get shoved out from the darkness,
back into the light.
The quote above is from the 2011 movie The Rite, starring Anthony Hopkins who delivered the haunting line. In the movie he portraits a priest who is especially skilled at everyday exorcism. Although I struggle with the almighty, the idea that something much like God’s fingernail is urging me on stayed with me. Maybe it’s the idea that there is something out there assigning me a purpose. Perhaps I’m only hoping for an explanation – why me?
That question, which has always bothered me, is not something I’m alone and wondering. I believe one of the deepest urges of mankind is finding out the “why” to question. Why we are here, why us, why now. In this short series, I’ll try to explain why we end up who we are in this seemingly effortless holistic manner.
(Disclaimer: this is of course nothing but my own personal view. I do not intend to offend anyone’s personal beliefs or opinions. This is an attempt to comb through my tangled thoughts.)
Our contemporary culture dictates a demand nearing obsession over characters made superhuman through social media, the revolutionary way to communicate. We’re nearing a hieroglyphic language, with emotions and thoughts expressed excessively through images, which might be products of either one’s own imagination or a mass-produced label. But they’re used according to the own, probably subconscious, culturally inherited markers of semiotics.
Why do we find it so easy to adapt to a language based on pictures than words? As a writer, this hurts me a little. But a picture does say more than a thousand words. These standards according to which the younger generations easily accommodate, as well as evolving it further, are by no means a new concept. It’s not even a surprising turn of events.
The idea of immortalizing oneself and one’s beliefs are as old as mankind. The expression of this apparently basic human desire has taken on many different aspects throughout history. It’s no wonder it’s now oozing through social media.
From fumbling cave paintings to antique statues and grand oriental monuments to self-portraits of the wealthy, to photographs, selfies and Snapchat, it seems embedded somewhere in our DNA to document ourselves and our lives.
As well as the clear decline of religion’s popularity in the West, and as the immediate and opposite reaction, the growth of independent movements fighting for an abundance of undeniably good causes is a sign of the establishment of this even newer world. The old, oppressive chains are breaking, and are replaced by nothing but bands of brothers and sisters.
God’s Fingernail tries to answer why we feel the urge to search for meaning and belonging, and why the past doesn’t seem to let us go. I’ll touch subjects like souls, chaos and creation and faith, share my thoughts around the texts I’ve found, and tie it all together with a nice little bow.
Restless and hopeful many sleepless nights were spent by my kitchen table, headphones on. Absent-minded, trying to ignore the growing sensation that I’m spending extra time like this, and that I’m supposed to, and that the time is not extra at all. It just seems clear to me, writing this on a dry piece of paper with the pen’s raspy noises scarring the page. There’s something urging me to continue.
The scratching fills the quiet kitchen.
It sounds like God’s fingernail.
What do you think?
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And stay tuned for more scribbles from yours truly.
It’s a celestial urge, to be a poet;
to rewrite the world as you see it,
true and just, or not.
To be a Creator,
forming your likeness of the Earth
from which you were born
and to which you are destined
to return, humbly kneeling
before the altar of fate.
To be a Believer,
praising the glorious work
of our Almighty Father
and seeing His wonders inherit
His terrarium of caged light
and we, His songbirds,
praying for mercy at the end of days.
The caged bird sings
as beautiful as the untamed
when our hearts are all the same;
we’re all God’s madmen,
poet and politician alike,
nothing divides us but
our heart’s image of our
Heavenly Father.
I know not much and I am nothing,
not even a blade of grass
of a seed from the
Garden of Eden.
But still I am, and see, and feel,
the light and dark are all the same,
different hues of the known,
and to know is to love.
To love as I do, in night and day
is all the same to me;
gladly I kneel and give my life –
what is it, but a blessing in disguise
to suffer and die
in the ephemeral space I occupy
and to maybe let the light sting me,
like a golden bee, time and time again?
For I am multitudes but nothing at all,
I am the sum of the past in the equation of tomorrow;
to even be a part of a blade of grass
is more than I ask.
I know nothing – what is grass
but the uncut hair of graves,
so let me kiss you welcome,
welcome to the dirt,
and to help you find your way
back to the light.
Here I will remain,
don’t look for me in the halls of scholars
or amongst the grand and praised;
when I am lost,
look for me
under the soles of your heels.
If only I were a poet
I’d praise the world loud and clear
but I am nothing
so let me do this,
one prayer, one allowance I ask
and I’ll be silent until
I’m called from my grave
crawling through the dirt
into the air, calling all,
grass and leaf and drop and dream;
if only I may not be
the poet, seeing all –
let me be the poem,
carved onto the lifeless stone.
A glimpse of hope and humanity
that really is nothing of the sort;
tokens for the dead means
nothing to them,
but is everything for the living
when in truth the dead
are honest, silent, kind,
patiently waiting with
stolen breath that is bated
maybe the living ones will see
they were the poets
all along.
8 hours, 23 pages, 8938 words and the editing remains… releasing short essay series soon!
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#blogger #blogpost #writing #writersofinstagram #writerslife #dowhatyoulove #mypartismyown #YesThisIsFranklin
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