Today, just outside Alan Gardens, a small butterfly had landed on my sleeve. I didn't expect such a natural presence to be so close to me, and I had to stop to reflect on its beauty. It landed not once but twice on the same sleeve, as though that particular arm were especially appealing to it. And what I felt was a kind of marvel in the presence of nature and its ability to connect humans in subtle ways that I can only describe as spiritual.
I find that when I am too impatient to be in control of my mind, my thoughts, and even my journey, I get a kind of 'desert' mentality. Everything feels like scarcity, and I am only reflecting on what isn't there instead of what is there before me. This desire to control how I see things (call it ego, if you will) is what seems to block the ability to simply marvel at miracles of living things. I believe that these simple moments of nature touch me while also reminding me that "I" am never in charge of my experience, and that this self is what sabotages the beauty that is already of the world.
Back in the day, people used to use the natural world as evidence of a creator being. Paley was one philosopher who used the watch analogy: that is, if a person were to discover a watch on the road, she or he would naturally trace it back to a watchmaker. Under the same argument, all the natural world can be thought to be coming from a creator. While I admire this argument, I wonder, is the creator some being that is separate from the universe, standing apart from it somehow? This leads me to my next question: is it possible that maybe the whole natural world is filled with wisdom? Why try to imagine a being separate from the natural world, when nature is suffused with signs of wisdom and compassion?
No comments:
Post a Comment