Emptiness and fullness: two gods of the human condition. Between them they prompt all kinds of creation. But there are shades and qualities within each of them. When eyes grow wide with wonder and the mouth falls open, there is a kind of emptiness: an instinctive ability to receive revelation. When the heart fills with pain its fullness overflows in the eyes. I mention these things because, in a sense, we’ve moved so far away from the natural human condition. Can you imagine the degree of wonder and of pain felt by an Adam and an Eve upon leaving the divine garden?
Revelation is a force of the spirit – and we too are spiritual beings. It lies within our capacities to reveal the deepest truths and to have them revealed to us. We are not merely creatures painted onto the earth like daubs of dream. From one point of view dreams are very perfect things: with utter and complete accuracy they replicate the truth of our inner life and its outer daily connections in picture form. I’ve never known a dream to be wrong – it only requires a little detective work to see in what way it’s accurate. I’m full of admiration for dreams. But a dream is like a captainless ship. It has no spontaneous power of creation or direction – it can only be faithful to life, which is wonderful enough in its own right.
There is no poem or painting or song which is as wonderful as a dream. We have a long way to go before we can create on that level. But at the same time every poem and painting and song is more fulfilled than a dream. They spring from wonder and pain, from emptiness and fullness in all their manifestations. And as they draw closer to revelation they return to the natural condition of Adam and Eve.
I say all this because I feel very strongly that I want to stretch the fabric of life, to break the threads of the tapestry and step forth. I don’t deny that the whole of the subterranean world is in me, with its dark forces and shapes. I admit that I am subject to the great signs in the heavens – such as the total eclipse of the sun which took place three days ago. These things are more than me – much, much more. But they also invite and incite me to become more myself. What I’m saying in the end is that the world is an invitation to freedom – a freedom which carries the depths and the heights with it. This is the very difficult background of the human condition. And it is the result of being spiritual beings.
Wonder and Pain
Dreams are such artfully accurate things -
poems and songs, paintings and creations
have far to go before they can compare.
But a dream is a captainless ship at sea.
Will I scream or love, laugh or shout with life?
Better to create and drown than be dreamt -
I will always be more, stretch the fabric,
tear the tapestry and then go down glad.
I’ll come out from behind a dream fighting,
though my art is never so smooth, my skill
so well-prepared, my conscience clearly spread.
Where sun and moon have crossed paths lives will shine.
Not the deep underworld with its laments
nor pure signs enlarged across the heavens
can stop me rising, falling where I will.
Let the earth grow dark – a star will still rise.
At the end there are spirits who appear
from the starlit spaces, and I with them.
It’s our path to be less and less the same,
not painted on the world like daubs of dream
but beings who travel down eternity.
At last the world itself is made again
by souls who gape with wonder, fill with pain -
an emptiness and fullness for all time.
Best wishes, today,
© Landar 2012. All rights reserved
You are welcome to quote from Light on the Page on the condition that you cite the author and the source: Author: Jay Landar. Source: www.lightonthepage.com. For other permissions please contact the author.