September 11th, 2009 11:15 EST
Symphony of the Night
When was the last time you actually got out of your lair to enjoy the pleasures and beauty of the night? I`m sure there have been times when you woke up or didn`t even bother going to sleep late just to sit outside and watch the night sky as our forefathers have done thousands of years ago.
Imagine yourself in a gorgeous Eden of nature`s embrace to look around and see nothing but endless fields, trees and the unblemished beauty of what God created for us to enjoy and not to squander. Night embalms you from every corner as the darkness keeps a tight hold of every inch of your skin and the spotted sky looks down at you like rotten Swiss cheese. Look around, taste the air and remember what a night like that feels like.
The trees seem to move but don`t, moonlight streams like an ocean of silvery coins that escape your grasp so as not to make you king, the wind shivers everywhere just to kill the silence and give the grass a reason to whisper secrets never told into your ears as you elude their meaning. It is gorgeous and mysterious in itself for you do not know so much about the time you waste.
But then, think twice, why are you here? Is it fate? Or is it just you? If it is fate, then why bother being yourself? Dissect that word bound to the wheel imagined in the minds of elders who have little left to live for and see just why so much has been said about the one thing we do not know, the one thing none want to bow before and still see as something present that sits in the back of your mind like an infectious parasite.
There is a doubt, isn`t there? What says you cannot exclude the possibility of some ethereal plan written in the night sky for all of us? And if you exclude it as nothing more than myth, think if the reasons you are doing so are right or wrong.
Fate has existed as a word and concept throughout the generations as something to be feared and obeyed. The ancient Greek sought it as the golden thread of fate, woven and guarded by the three sisters Euryale, Atropos and Clotho. They weave each human`s string and decide when to end it by snapping it with their scissors to tumble the person into the blackness of the River Styx linking our world with Tartarus. The Buddhists say that the Wheel of Fate must keep going forward to bring every soul through reincarnation closer and closer to the great divine of enlightenment in the eyes of the one and only spirit who will bring us peace and ultimate unison with everything.
Every culture has its own interpretation of the word, but how about we try to give our own. The common belief is that everything is preordained, your path is written, predetermined and every move you make has been foretold and you cannot change anything any longer like a mook with nowhere to go without some unknown power knowing it beforehand. Another idea is that fate is being continuously written to match our actions and act accordingly in response to make sure we do not stay without consequentiality. And yet another interpretation is that we are born with a path to follow that has been given to us by God himself ,who, in his own sick plan for the universe, has a task for everyone of us that we must follow whether we like it or not.
Call it what you will, the very reason why fate has been invented is because we do not know what happens next and what challenges may lie ahead for us to overcome or succumb to. But, who said that fate even exists in the first place, just like every other concept we have created over the ages, be they morals, ethics, religions, economic or political systems, philosophy and so and so forth.
What if fate is one of the most meaningless concepts ever created? Or was fate His main engine, the purifying rhythm of the universe just to make sure no souls stray from His tyranny and discover that there is nothing out there, that the heavens are void and nothing awaits beyond the veil that we hope to open up into a new beginning? If it be so, then God is also bound and His fate is also written on the wheel. It just takes more turns to come to an end. Nothing stays forever just as fate dictates, meaning God is also bound to be extinguished, for he had a beginning as well and therefore must have an end as everything in time.
So what now, lonely man? Are you left to stand in the shadows of an empty street all by yourself, hearing the clock ticking around you in the night and counting down the unpredictable hour of your impending doom? Or does the devil sit by your left, whispering temptation that you call lies and know to be true? Or maybe, Gabriel snickers into your right ear with his breath stinking of the thousand souls he consumed as sacrifice for his wretched existence in servitude to something finite? And does death stand behind you, creeping its scythe slowly around your neck to sever that line of being so you flow where the wheel of fate takes you?
Decide. That is the key, for if we have a choice, then what meaning is there in a wheel, or fate, or even God? But if He is righteous, why does a child die? Why does the earth shake and engulf thousands, or does it have a choice as well? If all this happens in His knowing, it can only mean two things. Either God is not just and wise or righteous but a heartless murderer and a sadist reveling in our suffering with a sick sense of humor. Or it means that there is a choice that can be made by everyone, for how else would you describe human actions leading to such misery?
It is choice that drives a man to raise his hand on someone innocent and it is a choice that even the power of genetics makes when the endless sequences of Adenine, Thymine, Guanine and Cytosine combine in something that brings unbearable pain to those having to suffer the consequences of what is not in our control. Yet so much is within our control and it is exactly because we do not have power over all the other painful aspects of our existence why we decide to blame something incorporeal, not even realizing that perhaps, we are not the only beings who have the power of choice.
It is granted, isn`t it? We, we, we, yes, we are, we will be and we were the greatest and most intelligent with the power to do this and that. But what if we shed this idiotic idea of being bound to something beyond and realize that we are just mortals born unto a canvas teeming with independent entities with their own choices that influence us in many ways? What if we decide to see everything through an imaginary and yet so unrealistic visor devoid of ethereal concepts? Would you like to know what is beyond the veil of soothing explanations that we devised for ourselves?
The answer may be nothing. We may see nothing, no divine powers, no omnipotent beings, no wheels, just the beauty of the night with the stars above and the land below.