Impact
This photo comes up from nowhere, springs into your half-awake mind, diminishes your reality. W5: who, what, why, when where? But there is no who, save the person bearing witness to this moment in time, and you, the double witness who also contemplates and is therefore complicit.
Do you recognize this scene? Is this a moment in your life? Are you the one who struck the match and lit the flames in the lower corners? And are they even flames? Or are they moments of glory, flashes of fireworks, the world coming alive in a moment of combustion when light and dark are mingled until, fiat lux / let there be light, and the world is reborn, light and form, drawn from darkness, and earth and sea divided into separate realms. In principium erat verbum / in the beginning was the word and the world was born / reborn in this verbal-visual instant between sleeping and awakening, when dreams gain substance and ideas take on form and shape and grow in the observer’s mind until creation sparks into life.
Who now knows what will be, what might be? We see. We bear witness. We paint, draw verbal pictures, take snapshots, unfold our souls, placing them on paper and canvas capturing them by camera in snapshots … but What’s it all about, Alfie? Do you remember the film? The suspension in space, the knowledge that all is absurd, that this is a jigsaw puzzle of the worst kind, with no solution, no answer, and every path bifurcating before us, and each of us wandering in a maze, a labyrinth, with an entrance, but no exit.
Do you think up or down, when you’re floating in a space without gravity, where nothing is substantial and all the rules you ever learned no longer hold? The roller-coaster rolls on and you hang on, and sometimes the sun comes up and sometimes the sun goes down, and is that the first light of morning or is it the last light of day, and how can you be sure?
And where is it anyway? Have you ever been there? And if I told you where it was , what time of day it was, or what time of night, would you believe me? And if not, why not? And who and what am I? And why do you trust what I say? And why would you trust me, when you have never met me, and you do not even know who I am, or where I am, or what I am, and even I do not really know who I am or why I am, and why does any of this matter?
It matters because we need faith, we need substance, we need hope, we need to believe in something other than ourselves and beyond ourselves. We still want to wake in the morning and see the dawn. We want to grasp it in our hands, not just in our minds, and know that there is light beyond this darkness, there is hope beyond this gloom, there are better things ahead. See that forgotten candle? Pick it up. Take that match. Strike it against the box. Now light that candle. Take it out. Show it to other people. Encourage them to light their own candles.
Sometimes we need to enlighten the world, to turn it round, to reject it as it seems to be and to recreate it in our own image. But take care: the image of the candle is not that of the laser beam or the searchlight. One by one, the small people, we must join together, and like tiny stars and light up the firmament. I cannot do it alone. But together, you, and you, and you, and you, if you walk with me, we can do our best. And that is the best we can do, in this, as Voltaire’s Candide once called it, the best of all worlds and the only one we have.
“It matters because we need faith, we need substance, we need hope, we need to believe in something other than ourselves and beyond ourselves.”
Roger, I love your post. Beautifully expressed. I have come to know the need you’ve expressed in the above sentence through deep struggle by walking through the dark, dark halls Nihilism. I don’t confess a traditional kind of faith because for me it is far too neatly packed and defined with too many trite answers. I’ve grown rather suspicious of certainty. I do believe in something. For me the power has always been in the questions, not in the answers. The older I get the more happy I am to live with “not knowing” than with “knowing.” I know there is something and most of the time I’m quite happy to live in its mystery and the questions it poses.Again may I say, a wonderful post.
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Thank you, Don. Sometimes, when I am writing, I feel something flowing through me that isn’t me. Northrup Frye referred to it as spiritus mundi / the world spirit. The Roman poets referred to it as deus est in nobis / the god within us. I think more people sense it than admit to sensing it. In an age of constant noise and crass materialism, it is difficult to stop, to stand and stare, to watch the rain and snow fall, to listen to our own breathing. Yet it is vital for us to do so. I certainly try to get in my quiet times and it’s amazing what turns up in them. Thank you for your thoughtful and thought-provoking response.
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