This is a perennial question for me, the need to balance one's life between the material and the spiritual. For many, there's no need for any deeper questioning of life's purpose, no desire to search for meaning or understanding, no desire to seek connection with the Eternal and Infinite, no longing for the Metaphysical, no spiritual quest. Life is focused on earning money and making our way in society. Externally we may all look the same, but matters spiritual are deeply hidden. Intelligence isn't the clue here, nor is gregariousness; it is something intangible. It's about some people's strong urge to make sense of it all and to seek communion with the Eternal Sublime. How often though? How intense is that need?
Devout people may have daily rituals around prayer at set times. But how often do they genuinely feel that they have engaged in meaningful contact with the metaphysical? Some indeed will have, and do so frequently. But for others - the ritual brings comfort, rather than a genuine spiritual insight. Yet this is not about religion or being religious. Some go to church each week, but they do so because they feel that they should go, and be seen to go, rather than their church-going being an active form of seeking contact with God, regular a chance to enter a more exalted state.
Moments of true spiritual enlightenment are rare in our lives, even if we seek them through meditation or prayer. Some times, some places are more conducive to such activities than others.
The corralling of human spiritual needs into one day of the week, one day in seven - the Lord's Day, the Sabbath - is predicated by our lunar calendar. That's why it's one-seventh. The Judeo-Christian God made the Earth in six days and rested on the seventh. Literally? Metaphorically? Or mystically? On other planets inhabited by sentient life-forms, the calendar might look quite different, so the Biblical notion of one in seven is hardly a Universal constant.
For me there is no set time of the week other than at the setting of the sun, and rarely (as I'm an owl rather than a lark), at its rising. The disappearance of the sun over the horizon is always a spiritual moment; it induces an awareness that I'm standing on a planet that spinning backward away from our neighbouring star. And when the moon rises into a cloudless night, and I can view it through a powerful telephoto lens, that consciousness of being an inhabitant of this particular planet awakes within me. Suddenly I am torn away from material thoughts of the everyday. And so, I seek out such moments, when the higher plane can be touched. A walk that involves setting out before sunset and returning in dusk's glow is part of my routine, especially on sunny days.
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| Sun melds into Earth |
Today, out in Jakubowizna, augured well for such a spiritual communion, but by the late afternoon, low clouds on the horizon had robbed me of the experience. But I caught it two days earlier, on Sunday. Watching that sun go down, meditating upon that thermonuclear force.
The sun has a profound influence on my mood. In autumn, as evenings draw in, I mourn the shrinking day. Now, at this time of year, the slow but steady return of the light, conquering darkness, each day longer than the previous one, fills me with hope.
It is at this time of year that I feel a spiritual rebirth. Maybe the need to touch the metaphysical isn't consistent; maybe some seasons are more conducive than others to hearing that inner voice and to push open the door to a more spiritual state.
Spiritual evolution is crucial. It is happening, at least for those of us who actively seek growth, seeking a ever-closer connection with the Universe; it happens in tiny steps. Progress is slow and hardly tangible, and yet is there. Away from the beast, towards the angelic. It begins with getting to understand your biology and rising above it. The base instinct, the reptile brain given to unthinking furies, driven by the most primordial of motivations. A calm, clear awareness of the span of life, from birth, development to maturity - a life focused on continuous improvement. From that first moment in which one is conscious of being conscious one must wrestle against the mindless.
There is a long, long way to go. So many profound insights that need to be experienced, studied, understood instinctively and communicated. The Lenten time is one in which I focus more intently on matters spiritual, but not to the exclusion of the remaining seven-eights of the year.
Should we be spending every moment of our waking life in pursuit of spiritual goals? Probably not. Sometimes, these things come to us, an if we try too hard, they evaporate before us. Better let chance intervene and take its course. The middle way between trying too hard, and not trying at all.
In the meantime, I often feel guilt at spiritual indolence; letting things drift. Tomorrow I shall explain how I see guilt, and sin.
This time last year:
The Mechanical Engineers
This time two years ago.
Ealing in the earliest of spring
This time four years ago:
Fat Thursday: a blast against sugar
This time five years ago:
The Devil is in doubt
This time six years ago
Are you aware of your consciousness?
This time eight years ago:
"Why are all the good historians British?"
This time nine years ago:
Central Warsaw, evening rush-hour
This time ten years ago:
Cold and getting colder
This time 12 years ago:
Uwaga! Sople!
This time 13 years ago:
Ul. Poloneza at its worst
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