Sunday, January 19, 2014

The creation of meaning

Avalokitesvara. Mogao, Cave 3, circa 1357.
Image from reproductions found at the Zhejiang Museum exhibits, Hangzhou, China

I’ve been observing the deconstruction of many inner assumptions as well as outer ones.  

It’s one thing when my work is constructed on hypothesis; another when inner realities assert themselves. Despite all our efforts to avoid it, a man need look no further than his own sins for the truth.

I see that so much of my life is accidentally dependent on the outer. Even the firm guidance of an inner and Divine Grace cannot absolutely dispel such charachter; and attachment is a very stubborn thing. I lurch from event to event trying to see more clearly, but usually not able to; I see how all my life lacks intelligence, that is, a Heavenly intelligence, which is where intelligence ought to come from. Instead the intelligence of life is my own intelligence; and it lacks a right energy needed to create real meaning.

When I do see, I see real meaning; and this meaning is inherent. But it is far from my everyday state, even though I perpetually inhabit a world imbued with this basic quality of Grace. It is there, but obscured by the cloud of unknowing.

So I struggle for meaning in life; and it’s an outward struggle. Because of my futile investment in this direction—instead, I ought to intensify the inner, but fail—the search for meaning is continually frustrated.

I wish to be more clear about this. I’d like to examine it without jargon, and especially without form, the stale, predictable forms that have formed concretions around all the ideas I have already learned. I’d like to throw that out and come up against the living, tactile quality of my inner question, the living flesh of what and who I am, which cannot, if I truly embrace it, be denied by the way I think or the things I have learned. This is a study of the organism, not a study of its thought; a study of the inner structure, not the outer administration.

 This inner structure is above all a feeling structure, and I sense it has far more integrity than my usual emotions, more resilience than my manic or depressive self-involvement. So I want to know it better. I want to know what the feeling quality of this life is, without its attachments to all the external events.

Because of this I often try to go directly inside, to invest in the organic connection which brings me into an intimate contact. It’s only here that I form any refuge, any solidity, that can intuit the marrow of the bones, the essence of my living Being.

It’s a place without any words. But it feeds me nonetheless.


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