Awareness

Something has happened. I can’t shake it. I can’t even fully express it, hence my long period of silence. Something has happened and its significance transcends every moment of my day. I have decided to label it “Awareness”, and though such a term is rather subjective, bear with me.   

As with most things, the Awareness must have crept up on me gradually, though it honestly felt like a tsunami that is still continually crashing over my mind. 

Tracing it back to the recent past, I would say it began as a yearning. A yearning for the smell of freshly turned earth. A yearning for the chirping of crickets, lush grass, and sun-baked rocks. My roots beckoned that I return to nature and soak myself in its beauty. However, this “back to nature” movement could not only comprise of tangible experiences. No, it needed to include my philosophy and spirituality as well. In fact, it had to encompass my entire worldview.

The tangible experiences, however, did come first. As spring unfolded, I spent increasing amounts of time outside. Blossom-sniffing, insect-stalking... general signs-of-growth inspections. I went on several weekend trips that let me steep in the outdoors. Having hibernated in the metropolis’s hubbub all winter, it was like seeing the natural world with new eyes. This fresh appreciation ripped through my chest. I began touching, investigating, and listening like a child. Where was it all coming from? This energy? This inexplicable admiration of nature?

Although each short exploration was rejuvenating, my daily routine left me with an emptiness that longed to be filled. It ate at me. Sometimes consuming me to the point of homesickness... yet homesick for what, exactly? That’s what took some time to figure out.

I will refrain from pretentiously claiming that the Awareness was completely inborn. Though the transformation certainly began as a response to some inner voice, there was soon an external element to it all: Ishmael. A book that I first read several years ago. A book that I immediately fell in love with, but that had previously left me unmarked beyond making it onto my favourite book list. Well, as Morgan delved into the book this spring, I could virtually hear synapses snapping into place. He was bubbling with questions that simply forced me to give the book a second read. And this time... it blew my mind. Call it maturity, reading between the lines, new experiences- we were both completely overwhelmed by the arguments presented.

I will not elucidate too much, but I will, for the sake of understanding my current state, try to explain the main thesis as best as I can:

Mother Culture, once long ago, whispered a treacherous lie into our egotistical ear... a lie that has led humanity into the sorry state it is in now: “Human beings are the end goal of natural evolution. Everything that was and is made was for us because we are, duh, awesome.”

See, the book moves beyond religion, for even scientists fall into this trap. They, having been so long immersed in Mother Culture, also proceed with the assumption that we can decide how existence on planet Earth will continue. As the book mentions, millennia ago, we decided we could take the power out of the hands of God or the gods and deny the laws of nature- the laws that allow ALL living things to live in harmony. We chose to control our own food supply, subordinate other animals, and generally use our “consciousness” as a WEAPON. Instead of being a beautiful example of what consciousness could be for other animals, we decided that we were better than everything else precisely because of this consciousness.

Anyway, soon Ishmael pervaded our daily conversations. We did not discuss so much the actual content of the book, but extrapolated above and beyond that which was presented. If people littered the streets with their filth- we conversed. If meat was virtually the only item on the menu (and to think we’re supposed to be omnivores?)- we conversed. When we wanted to buy new runners and did background research on various shoe companies (and we’re left morose)- we conversed. Over and over again, the thesis proved correct: Our entire society believed that we did not need to control anything we did. Control? What’s that?

So... where to go from here. I’m struggling. I feel so AWARE. Aware that something is undeniably, structurally, inherently wrong with our system of being. It has brought a heaviness to my life, but it is a heaviness that I embrace, for I know its significance. Why is it heavy? Because I now have complicated my thought processes. Choosing my meals stopped being simple over a year ago- Every day I must remind myself of why I made the decision to become vegetarian (to equalize the balance). I must also premeditate things like shopping or going to a coffee shop- if I forget my bags or my mug, guilt floods over me. Choosing footwear and clothing increasingly feels senseless and yet culture is SCREAMING at me. Last weekend I had to sing at a wedding... two hours prior to performing I was in tears on my apartment floor because I had to borrow a dress (having a rather limited wardrobe compared to most of my girlfriends), had a visibly worn-out purse, and had to duct tape my feet into my broken heels. I felt ghetto, but more than that I felt like a spoiled brat. I did not believe in consumption and yet here I was, angry at myself for not owning nicer things. I had such a fear, a fear of being lured by the myth. The lie. It is so much easier to think we have a get-out-of-jail-free card just because we’re human.

But, I guess that’s why I routinely remind myself of what I once explained to my students: Human is our animal name.

Please don't forget that. Ever.