Recently I was listening to a spiritually-oriented storyteller weave a tale regarding the evolution of life on earth, it’s destiny, the meaning of having humans and the inevitable emergence of humanity prevailing. I immediately went into reaction: “bollocks!” and ranted about how the universe does not care, does not give one shit whether humans live or die.
Or does it? My impulse to move to “and who the hell are we to put our importance in the vastness of time and space on a pedestal as if the great void even notices” was another symptom of hubris. Here I was, in my insistence of pointing out the arrogance of such an absurd assertion (that we even matter), playing the same game of knowing: “no, we don’t matter one bit.”
But do we? How would I know? I’m just a little human floating on a rock spiraling through space, what do I know? To know we are significant or not significance are both arrogant.
So I’m encouraging myself to be in the mystery. What would it be like to move forward in my commitment without a story of mattering or not mattering? How about the humility of not being certain of my own significance? How about acknowledging I don’t have the perspective, information or knowledge even to be in this conversation, let alone make a determination for or against such statement. I simply do not know. And in this unknowing I can make up any story I care to as to the meaning of my significance. But why go forth?
Human Being wants to create meaning and how can we measure our value, weight, worth, magnitude without significance? If I don’t matter (the universe couldn’t give a shit about whether or not I’m here, therefore I really don’t matter) then how would I create meaning? Is the meaning I create solely derived internally and independently of the external environment (the universe) and therefore only subject to my say so? My made-up interpretation of my significance?
Sorry, totally red herring there and based on a fundamental delusion of two things that are actually one thing. Me and the universe that is. So does the universe care that it exists? That’s actually the question. So seeing how I care I exist, the quick answer is, “why, yes of course!”
But now, that begs the question: do I know who I am? It’s easy for me to say I want to live, but based on Radical Oneness that leads us to ask, “well, what am I exactly?” If I am the sun and the sea and the stars and the sky, then what do I really know about “me?” This body? This limited skin bag of mostly water and some cool ideas, thoughts and feelings? Am I going to base this determination on that information when I am the quasar, black holes, the not yet discovered and the unknowable?
We get to look at these stories we create, and ask “to what end?” I’m beckoning you to reach back into the beginner’s mind of the infant and really not know what it means. And take responsibility for the story you are telling yourself right now about how important you, this society, this species really is. And maybe, maybe, if it’s not as important as the conditioning has led us to believe, maybe we can start taking care of each other and this great earth as equals, and not as some dominant, “I’m here to get what I can get because it all about me anyway” mentality. And maybe I can use this smaller version of our history, our humanity to forge humble service.
And conversely, perhaps stepping into “I, all sentient being and this great earth are one” mindset can empower me to not shrink and hide and believe that my thoughts, words and actions don’t matter. Because I’m like tornado on the plain, throwing everything in my path in whatever the direction I turn, a massive boiling energy field of possibility and destruction if I so decide. Or put another way: my will is life and death itself: raising my hand, I give life; drawing it closed, I kill and turn it all to black. My choice.