Here, the Sand Hill cranes are starting to gather, even as the temperatures remain high. By the amount of sun, by the colder nights, by the changing flora, by whatever means, they know that fall is coming. Soon they will gather to fly, circling first low, then high, then higher until they cannot be seen, perhaps purposefully caught in the jet stream to help them on their way south.
They know. Many peoples, most common among many tribes of Native Americans, have certain animals they identify with, either as their clan representatives or as personal guides. After moving here (to Wisconsin), I felt that the Sand Hill cranes were mine - both majestic in their ancient ways and calls, and downright goofy in their flight and walk. In both I see them as pertaining to me. And within that idea of animal spirit guides or identifications, is a greater idea - that the world is a sacred place, an imprint of God's design. From taking something particular, such as a clan animal, we can extend this identification from the earth into the heavens, each thing here a mirror of ultimate meaning and purpose.
And so I get back to my book, The Irreducible Mind. Following Fred Myers, there is a belief that we partake of a far greater consciousness than we are ordinarily aware, one that is merged with another - whatever we wish to call it - that links all in a web of cosmic meaning. We find this in the idea of the animal spirit identity. To Myers, we are following an evolutionary path to this great uber-mind, but the totem animal reminds me of the conservative authors of the perennial tradition. What, would they say, is so evolutionary about the modern mind? From their perspective, we have gone down, backwards, away from greater meaning, just as we seldom seriously believe in a totem or a natural link to the heavens anymore.
Which reminds me of the tremendous music I was listening to on the radio yesterday on a program called "Musica Antigua." The high music of the pre-classical period was all about God and spirit - all of it - and one can tell. Listening to it in quiet openness, one can feel the identity of the composer with the sacred. How much of the music of today says the same thing? And as I listened to the music, I understood better the perennialists. For them, the highest plane of all is the plane of God - all other things and ideas are inferior. It is similar to the feelings that I have gotten at times, in that praise of the Absolute is not a command, as it seems from religion, but the ultimate privilege, for in praising, one partakes; and by partaking of the Absolute, one is at one's highest, and most noble state. And so the claim of the perennialists becomes clear: the less we are in touch (or in praise) with God (or the Absolute for those who do not like the western connotations of the word "God"), the further we are from an evolutionary apex. All else - technology, space flight, even basic psi functions, are all nothing in its shadow. Thus they see not a straight time line to some distant perfection, but a cycle. In this cycle, man is born "in the image of God," that is, in harmony with the great plan of being. Through time, we become enamored of the outward forms, gradually forgetting the greatness of being from which we depart in our quest to understand, or use, the particular things in the environment. Eventually, we become completely absorbed in the outward forms, and completely removed from the spiritual. This, then, marks our nadir, not our ability to transform the environment.
In the cycle, as we fall out of tune with the greater design of being, we screw up - that is, a monumental world-wide collapse of human institutions ensues. From this, then, a new cycle is born: the phoenix, the resurrection from the ashes, from the "dead" eventually arises. Thus the spiritual traditions speak to us.
I have expressed hope before that this need not be the case, and so I still believe. I still see something greater in the flight of the crane, and in the changing of the seasons. I know I am not alone. Have we reached the end, then, or are we only in a temporary trough in the sign-wave of being? FK
They know. Many peoples, most common among many tribes of Native Americans, have certain animals they identify with, either as their clan representatives or as personal guides. After moving here (to Wisconsin), I felt that the Sand Hill cranes were mine - both majestic in their ancient ways and calls, and downright goofy in their flight and walk. In both I see them as pertaining to me. And within that idea of animal spirit guides or identifications, is a greater idea - that the world is a sacred place, an imprint of God's design. From taking something particular, such as a clan animal, we can extend this identification from the earth into the heavens, each thing here a mirror of ultimate meaning and purpose.
And so I get back to my book, The Irreducible Mind. Following Fred Myers, there is a belief that we partake of a far greater consciousness than we are ordinarily aware, one that is merged with another - whatever we wish to call it - that links all in a web of cosmic meaning. We find this in the idea of the animal spirit identity. To Myers, we are following an evolutionary path to this great uber-mind, but the totem animal reminds me of the conservative authors of the perennial tradition. What, would they say, is so evolutionary about the modern mind? From their perspective, we have gone down, backwards, away from greater meaning, just as we seldom seriously believe in a totem or a natural link to the heavens anymore.
Which reminds me of the tremendous music I was listening to on the radio yesterday on a program called "Musica Antigua." The high music of the pre-classical period was all about God and spirit - all of it - and one can tell. Listening to it in quiet openness, one can feel the identity of the composer with the sacred. How much of the music of today says the same thing? And as I listened to the music, I understood better the perennialists. For them, the highest plane of all is the plane of God - all other things and ideas are inferior. It is similar to the feelings that I have gotten at times, in that praise of the Absolute is not a command, as it seems from religion, but the ultimate privilege, for in praising, one partakes; and by partaking of the Absolute, one is at one's highest, and most noble state. And so the claim of the perennialists becomes clear: the less we are in touch (or in praise) with God (or the Absolute for those who do not like the western connotations of the word "God"), the further we are from an evolutionary apex. All else - technology, space flight, even basic psi functions, are all nothing in its shadow. Thus they see not a straight time line to some distant perfection, but a cycle. In this cycle, man is born "in the image of God," that is, in harmony with the great plan of being. Through time, we become enamored of the outward forms, gradually forgetting the greatness of being from which we depart in our quest to understand, or use, the particular things in the environment. Eventually, we become completely absorbed in the outward forms, and completely removed from the spiritual. This, then, marks our nadir, not our ability to transform the environment.
In the cycle, as we fall out of tune with the greater design of being, we screw up - that is, a monumental world-wide collapse of human institutions ensues. From this, then, a new cycle is born: the phoenix, the resurrection from the ashes, from the "dead" eventually arises. Thus the spiritual traditions speak to us.
I have expressed hope before that this need not be the case, and so I still believe. I still see something greater in the flight of the crane, and in the changing of the seasons. I know I am not alone. Have we reached the end, then, or are we only in a temporary trough in the sign-wave of being? FK
RSS Feed