A Sunday Chat with Myself — 28 January, 2018

“Knowledge is the life of the mind”— Abu Bakr

One of my favorite poems is “Vestigia,” by Bliss Carman

“I took a day to search for God, and found Him not.  But as I trod by rocky ledge, through woods untamed , Just where one scarlet lily flamed, I saw His footprint in the sod …”

At present, I’m reading a very interesting book, “Children of a Living Universe,” by Paul Von  Ward. The author states, “A review of present conventional religious and scientific assumptions is necessary.” He continues, “most of what groups now label truth would have to be considered tentative, but not fact.” I tend to agree with the author;  creation is in a constant state of flux, assumed truths and mistruths. For example, according to Reference.com, there are a whopping 4,200 religions in the world today. Each one professes to “know the truth, to claim (know) their version of the word of God to be the only true word, and boldly claim that all other religions, except their own, have at least some wrong–mistruth–in them.”

So I ask, if I want to know God–the true God, which religion do I join?

Another burning question: countless wars have been fought over whether our universe came into being via the Big Bang, or whether God created the univers out of nothing–which, of course, begs another question, is there even a God?

Was the Garden of Eden really the birthplace of mankind, or was Zacharia Sitchin, in his book, “The 12th Planet,” more correct when he claimed, that “Life, scientist have concluded, evolved not upon the terrestrial planets … but in the outer fringes of the solar system.”?

If most of our history is written by the victor, what is mankind’s true history?

Heraclitus is credited with having said, “The only thing that is constant is change.” Is that the same as saying, the only truth in the universe is change?  Is  Heraclitus saying that change is God? If every creation in our universe boils down to that simple quote, I can see mankind’s destiny as utter madness. Is there no stability, no anchor that we can fix our hopes and dreams on?

I believe that, if I ever want to find truth–real, eternal truth–I have to look inside myself, for nowhere else can it be. Inside of me I see Love. Love always has been. Love always will be–as the old cliche goes, hiding in plain sight from my frivolous mind. Love is eternal. Love never changes, and can be depended upon to always fulfill.

Love, with its opposite quality, hate,  is, beyond question, the primary, the most stable, the most powerful truth upon which the entire universe is built, and is the foundation upon which all other truths are based. Love and hate are the cornerstones upon which all my other experiences are built. What hate destroys in me, love can heal and resuscitate.

I can therefore conclude that recorded history–or any point therein– is volatile. It’s not constant. What seemed true to a nation yesterday, is no longer true today. If I unravel that history’s  seemingly whole into parts–into separate acts, I see that many of its pieces have changed, but where love or hate played a part at the time, the same result is today as it was then.

Through my rage/hate–let’s say as a Roman soldier–I burnt a peasant’s home and killed its occupants. The rage was the same then as it would be today, and its manifestation the same as if I go, today, and raze a jungle village in the Amazon in order to make room for my oil rig. Politics, opinions, justifications change: therefore they can’t be classified as Eternal Truths. But manifested hate, or rage then, in Roman times, as it would today, or any other time in our history, can be classified as an eternal truth.

Another, positive example this time: let’s say I become aware of the plight of refugee children in some war-torn country today. I take my funds and build them an orphanage with all its amenities to help ease their suffering. In other words, I have come to love these children. The manifestation of that love is the same–a constant–today as it would have been for the compassionate person who built the first hostel to ease the discomfort of the weary travellers along the ancient Chinese Silk Trade Route. Love, like its opposite, hate, is a constant.

Love and hate aren’t the only constants in our universe. There’s charity, with its opposite, greed; compassion with its opposite, indifference; morality with its opposite, immorality; industrious with its opposite, sloth, and let’s not forget intelligence with its opposite, stupidity!

These are all constants throughout the universe: unchanging, eternal. Did I finally find God?

 

About Albert Schindler

I was born on the 27th of February, 1931, on a farm near Hubbard, Saskatchewan. As far back as I can remember I had a spirit that would not stay earthbound. In junior high, I remember taking first place for a short story in which I described my terrifying encounter with a dinosaur. In outer space – that is, when the teacher wasn’t directly speaking to me, I went where Buck Rogers wouldn’t dare go. I was more of a Calvin in Calvin and Hobbes type of guy, with my own, personal, very powerful, transmogrifyer always at the ready. In my ‘teens and twenties, I pushed aside my Calvin alter ego in favour of making a living and didn’t take seriously again my ‘writer’s bug’ until my late 30s. I still saw that the world as full of exciting things to learn and investigate, which my writing reflected in the several articles and a couple of short fiction pieces that I wrote and sold, including over 30 children’s radio plays for Alberta’s ACCESS Radio. Unfortunately, I abandoned my budding writing career in favour of starting my own business as a sign painter. Now that I can officially call myself ‘retired,’ I plan to resume my writing career, only this time, writing mostly fiction. Why fiction? I have lead a great, adventurous life in which I made many mistakes (the ‘adventure’ in life), that have taught me some very important lessons and allowed my spirit to grow to unimaginable proportions, inconceivable to me while still in my thirties. In fiction, I believe, one can adventure into both the inner and outer consciousness of man and the universe to infinite levels where only the boldest dare peak. Convention holds that article writing has to be factual – oh, you can be creative in how you present your information, but ‘fact’ (whatever that means) still must have its parameters in article writing, whereas fiction is limited only by the size of a writer’s spirit, and so far, I haven’t been able to fathom my limit.
This entry was posted in Challenges, Encouragement, Meditation, Points to Ponder, Religion, Spirituality, Thoughts and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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