We must nurture, protect, and breathe Grace into those “discursive solitudes” or “mystical solitudes” that may already be blossoming—or are yet to blossom—in the hidden corners of this world, this sub-world. This requires taking a stance—or rather, a Karákter (see its etymology)—one that shields these solitudes from the alienation imposed by dogmas of every kind: religious, scientific, techno-social, logical—those systems that measure, explain, theorize, frame, and offer “objective” answers to everything, to the Whole; entangled in endless logical disquisitions, self-justifying within a samsaric circle of deception and estrangement.
These Solitaries are not found only in mountaintop monasteries, secluded forests, deep jungles, caves, deserts, or remote wastelands—as our dichotomous and stereotyped minds so often imagine. No, not at all. They may live, survive, and co-live in the midst of a vast metropolis, in a neglected neighborhood, in a mid-sized city, or in a small town as just another citizen. For the Solitude we speak of here is not primarily geographical—it is mental, a state of consciousness. Let us distinguish, then, isolation from Solitude.
These “urban solitaries,” one might say, are often even more resilient. They grow stronger within these environments precisely because they dwell daily amid the bombardment of information, breaking news, dogmatism, ideologies, and advertisements of all kinds.
Let us be coherent, please! Information and knowledge—so fashionable today—are not enough. We need Wisdom, which arises more from within than without. Only through it can we begin to truly understand ourselves, nature (of which we are a part), and the interconnected universe to which we also belong. We must learn to—quoting generously—“LISTEN” to that: to ourselves, to nature, to the Whole. But not as things—rather, as relationships, connections, bonds.
We need a revolution. A subversion. A REAL change. Because we are speaking of our experience with Total Reality—not just a fragment or bias of it. This stance will guide us to a new awakening, an openness to BEING in its fullness—toward Others, toward the World. And yes, you may ask: does this imply an ethic? I believe it does.
For it is well known: all people come into contact with Reality through experience. Through the senses of the body; through intelligence and the intelligibility that knowledge or belief can offer; and finally—no less importantly—through what we may call mystical intuitions. To truly be in reality, we must be predisposed to all three—not only one. They complement each other so that we may see, hear, or rather approach what we may truly call Reality—within an experience we might then name as whole.
This is the root of my disposition toward mysticism. This is why I insist that mystical intuitions are universal—any of us can perceive them. They are there, always present… or rather, within us. The issue is that, in order to survive, our being—through habit, adaptation, repetition—is often forced to “leave something behind.” For many, that something is what seems least useful: the mystical, the unfathomable mystery. Yet as we tend toward the Origin, we realize that it is not only the most useful—which would be a shallow reason—but more importantly, it is what guides us, what illuminates the true path.
These Solitaries, even when labeled solipsistic, selfish, or self-absorbed, are quite the opposite. They are often more integrated with the community, with Others, than those immersed in gregarious behavior—in herd mentality—those who follow what is done, what is said, what they are told. They move in packs—driven mostly by fear: fear of not belonging, of loss.
The Solitary, at certain moments, knows how to step aside—not geographically or historically, but consciously. From that place, they can see and hear from outside, from above—not immersed or veiled by images, noise, chatter. And I repeat: this can happen even while living in a large, medium, or small community or city.
This is not an attitude of superiority, disdain, or elitism. It is, rather, a lovingly inclined disposition. And love unites us—it binds us to things, to nature… to Others.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario