Thursday, March 8, 2012
BEFORE: An Essay on Becoming
Before there was a world, there was no thing. There was no darkness, no light, no up, no down, no in, no out, no happy, no sad. It was okay. No thing needs nothing.
But, that was just it. No thing needs nothing. To wit, no thing therefore needs some thing. And, in that small conscious, desirous gesture of recognition, every thing changed, forever and ever.
The hint of desire, from the depth of no thing, caused a tremendous, screaming tear in the unseamed no thing. Suddenly there was movement, toward some thing, toward Self. No thing was drawn in and in, upon itself, so that it might get close enough to know itself. Like the pressure creating a diamond, no thing hugged itself smaller and smaller, in a torrent of compression, a spiraling whirlpool of inward intention, until finally, it was of the tiniest particle imaginable. Still, it could not know itself: it was no thing.
The movement, then, could not stop itself. It continued, so magical and fierce, snakelike and burrowing, spiraling, picking up more and more of itself, drawing itself toward itself like a black hole, like a roaring implosion. With the pent up desire of eternity, suddenly was heard a crack and a scream, as the spiraling burst forward in a spray of stars. Like sparks flying out of the end of a cosmic straw, the energy spun out in all directions. Fireworks rocketed out and bounced around until all of the sound, colliding with itself, like the tension of a million earthquakes, created audible sonic patterns of beautiful complexity. From the matrix of billowing, howling sound, came a perfect explosion of brilliant, white diamond light, piercing all, like a shuddering thunderbolt.
From the blinding light and the piercing sound, there came the patterning of the pairs of opposites. Light begot dark and sound begot silence. As sound and silence, dark and light moved, and it began to dance and twirl, creating still more of itself, until it filled up eternity with time and space. There was no thing and at the same time there was some thing, every thing, all together, all at the same time. And it was perfectly okay.
Desire created the world. There was the desire of no thing to see itself, to play, to dance, to laugh and to cry, in and for some thing. No thing became less of itself in order to be more. No thing imploded itself to such a mighty point, that it exploded itself in to something.
And that is how we all came to be. No thing is nothing. We are all some thing, all together, all at the same time. Every thing is created from the pang of desire of no thing. One small gesture of desire to express itself is in each one of us. We are all forever held in the tension of the dance of no thing’s desire to be some thing. We are man and woman in order to make this so. In expressing the desire, we re-cognize that we all are the snaky, thundering, lightening dance of no thing delighting in being some thing.
© Sandra Carden, April, 2006