The Silence of ...

Today, I can find no insights worth reporting. I hear no echoes of gurus past offering sage wisdom. Stood in the yard, letting bees, birds, and flutterbys incorporate me into their internal landscape maps.

Alone in a human crowd, giving them more than I get back. Will I ever be me completely by myself? Of course not. Then why pretend I could be someone else or something else? There is no escape hatch to an alternate universe. And if there was, would I be just as disappointed in my new existence? Likely.

No escape. No rescue. Since I'm not going anywhere else, then what? Another walk in the woods, perhaps. Take a nap, perchance to remember my fantastic thoughts. No matter what, give in to silent meditation - that much I know from my own collective wisdom.

When I was young, I saw a film about the life of religious adherents in another part of the world. Their religious practices differed from the one with which I was most familiar. The adherents, at a certain older age, gave up their community responsibilities and wandered the countryside in pure poverty. Younger ones would often become monks and go off to special centers of religious training. From that film, I believed my goal in life was to dig ditches for a living and live in a cabin in the woods. I have lived in a suburban cabin since 1987 and once worked in the sewer business for over eight years. I have accomplished all the goals I set to comply with the needs/wants of my society. When do I cast off the materialistic burdens of my younger days and become a poor hermit?

If I wait for a signal from my current subculture, none will come. Or if it does, I may not recognize it. The sign or indication must blossom forth from my internal well-being and awareness. I have peace. I have internal well-being. Is awareness at hand?