It’s all bullshit. If and when you start digging into anything and everything significant that seemed to occur in these past months — and perhaps years, decades or centuries — nothing about it is genuine. It’s all someone’s hidden influence, someone’s fiction, or someone’s delusion of shaping the world in their image.
This strange, infuriating, exhausting, personally expansive, psychologically challenging, emotionally maturing and character alchemizing year has been one for the books. Perhaps you can relate.
When we buy in to the synthetic, superficial ideas of our material world, to swear by and live by them, we may forever be misled by the perception of the complicated nature of things. That, to me, is Scientism run amok.
Father Sun, Mother Earth, how complete is the nature of life. We cannot have a balance without the polaric dance, we cannot know contrast without the two. So, we suffer by the choice to ignore the obvious and plain, to gather and to extrapolate the grander essence of the vast expressions underneath.