The Domain of Being
I fell asleep listening to Nan Shepherd’s The Living Mountain, read by Tilda Swinton. Lulled into a sweet, pacific slumber by the gorgeous prose dripping with delicious descriptions of nature, I was suddenly jolted awake by these words;
“It is, as with all creation, matter impregnated with mind: but the resultant issue is a living spirit, a glow in the consciousness, that perishes when the glow is dead. It is something snatched from non-being, that shadow which creeps in on us continuously and can be held off by continuous creative act. So, simply to look on anything, such as a mountain, with the love that penetrates to its essence, is to widen the domain of being in the vastness of non-being. Man has no other reason for his existence.”
A single tear spilled from my right eye upon hearing that final sentence. I silenced the book so that those words would be the last to enter my ear for the day. That continuous creative act involves a special attentiveness to the riches of sensorial experience dropped at our feet in every moment. It is an extra, but I suspect necessary, second step to weave those enlivened impressions of these riches into an artifact of some kind. How else will the uninitiated find the secret that is no secret at all, but a deluge swelling all around us, waiting for us to cast a glow over it?
Important too, not to underestimate the power of forgetfulness. The artifact I make may be for my future self. One who knew but forgot is as uninitiated as one who never knew. It isn’t a shortcoming, not a sin, but it is a deprivation. I should like to kindle that glow in myself and others whenever I can. Why not lovingly widen the domain of being?
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Shine bright my friend…! x