Take a moment to consider that its there, under your feet, being all alive and wonderful. A vast percentage of us are unaware of its majesty and when the odds are weighted up, an exceptionally lucky individual you are, to have ever even been given the chance to be with it. Mud, rock and metal, available in almost every colour that exists, and at any temperature you can imagine. It is the mother of reason and the father of life, it protects us with a mighty ironic strength that could instantly destroy us, as it dances together with its celestial partner, locked in a waltz that will last forever. A dance so subtle we can’t even feel it, yet so important, we’d all die without it.
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
I often find myself pondering thoughts that I know I’ll never be able to explain or have anyone sane, answer. It seems incredible to me, that we are all walking around in these bloody bio-suits of flesh and bone. Alive, thanks to a pump that circulates the most complex and important liquid ever discovered, around our bodies, keeping us aware, (whatever that means?) and feeding us the oxygen that we desperately need to stay here. But why do we have to be alive, why cant we just all be rocks; simple, timeless and stationary? I know that there are people that believe to have the answers; on one side of the fence you have the scientists, that want you to believe that the world is built on a system of relationships, where evidence from one thing, backs up another in order to prove that its correct. This is all well and good, however if we don’t know how these laws even came into place, then how does this even have any grounding to be correct, in a world where we have no idea why, or how all the material that created it came from? Which leads on nicely to the people that sit on the other side of the fence. Religion is a wonderful thing as it gives comfort to the loss of loved ones that are no longer here, and if you “keep the faith” eventually you will be reunited. In the wake of all these questions, one thing is certain to me, and I don’t need any man from either side of the fence, that both happen to have a love affair with cords, beards and NHS speckles, to convince me to invest in an absolute.
The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.
What then do you call your soul? What idea have you of it? You cannot of yourselves, without revelation, admit the existence within you of anything but a power unknown to you of feeling and thinking.