Creation and silence

The winter was approaching. After the sun had set, there was an intense silence. A silence in which the crickets could be heard louder and more intensely than on other days. A chill permeated the air. The cold air was pleasant, slightly biting, an indication of the cold weather to come.

In his last teachings, the teacher had spoken about what is creation. Invention is when man develops a thought. Creation is quite something else. Despite man, despite all the disturbances of the world, nature was creating. An old season was dying, a new season was coming into being.

Being present in the midst of this flux of creation, one could sense that one was part of this grand change. The earth’s revolution around the sun had come to a new phase. From the closeness of summer, one was moving to the distance of the winter. The earth, the sun, the solar system, the galaxies, were all part of an infinite, totally silent, yet unfathomably fecund universe – forever moving, forever expanding, forever dying and being born again. And yet, completely silent.

In the chill in the air, which touched one’s body through one’s clothes, the whole silent universe pulsated, spoke through its silences. This was creation.

Here were the origins of all there was. The dog barking at a distance, the vehicle starting, the lovers going to bed, they were all an expression of the origin, and this origin was also the end. The ground of all being. The creative silence of the night was for all to see and to hear. Herein lay all meaning, all purpose of human existence.

 

 

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~ by tdcatss on October 20, 2016.

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