Wisdom in All Life

Featured photo by Bogomil Mihaylov

Dear Reader,

I saw a meteorite yesterday evening, the full arc of her trajectory. She was the brightest celestial object I have ever seen, except for the sun and moon. With a tail like a blow torch, the meteorite appeared to fall close by, yet apparently could be seen from Virginia to the Delaware Bay. I have been trying to sort out my thoughts about this object and her fiery plunge.

Earlier, I encountered a fawn. The sun had barely risen, yet a ray of light caught his twitching white tail, alerting me to his own alertness.

Do a deer and a meteorite have anything in common? They are connected, of course, in our awareness of them as phenomena, in the flash of awe each evoke in us. Yet, there is something ineffable, a shining authenticity of being that belongs to them alone. All things have this essence, this glowing inherent nature. A meteoroid can travel many millions of miles before encountering Earth’s atmosphere. It can be billions of years old. A fawn has lived only a few months and its range is less than 100 acres. But the Universe makes no hierarchical distinction between them. Each has their origin in the same primordial mystery.

Panpsychism is the belief that Mind is everywhere. And while I’m not convinced that trees have ‘thoughts’, I know that when I open myself to their essence, I can sometimes feel their intuitive awareness of themselves. There isn’t a label for that, but it is one definition of intelligence. Not that trees or rivers care about our labels and definitions. Nor do they ‘need’ our human regrets, our shame, or our grief. I think what we need is to see them in the fullness of their being, to witness their shining authenticity, take heed of their wisdom and remember their songs.

Our beloved animals, the rocks and streams, the forests, have too long been missing from the conversation about what is happening here. While we humans lament our mounting losses, when do we actually stop to ask what the wheat wants, how the birds feel, where the waters wish to flow? That requires deep listening. Most of us stopped listening long ago and the ancient songs are nearly forgotten.

The title of this issue of Kosmos is Wisdom in All Life. I struggled to find the right phrase, aware that any name will only get in the way of the unnamable. Here, I hope you will find a respite from perilous predictions and rigid rationalities, and instead touch a quality of lightness, the imaginal, and reverence for the inherent order at the heart of our living Universe.

Phenomena arise, sometimes persist, and then transform. But they don’t arise from nothing – they co-arise with everything. That goes for deer and meteorites alike. In her billions-of-years journey, a cosmic messenger delivered these wonderful tidings – “I am not separate from you; we are here for each other.”

In Gratitude,
-R. Fabian