We arrive alone and leave on our own. We are born, we live,
and we die. After the time we enter this world and before we depart from it, a
void exists with space that is empty. Our lives are compartmentalized, just
like the skeletal layout of a new apartment building in mid-construction, we
can see through only one square at a time, the vacant space within the square.
Looking closer into this space that we call empty, we can
find a buzz of activity. There is movement within, in circular patterns forming
a design we may call a crafted life, as if a spider weaving its web, or random
darts of tiny beings in a flurry we may call the rat race, like dust specks in
a disarray by the beam of a sunray.
Living by design or darting like the sperms blindly seeking an
egg, structured or in a disarray, space and all life within it appears to be circular.
From the egg to the chicken, there is no beginning or an end as the cycle
continues endlessly, just as the rotating earth, the revolving moon, the rising
and setting sun. But every circle has a center even as it endures its continuous
motion with its constant whir of activity. That center is what the whirling dervishes
seek as they find stillness in their motion and hope to unite the cells that
make us, and the universe, whole. All space is full and empty, still and
buzzing, timeless and transient.
Looking closer into this space that we call empty, we can
find a buzz of activity. There is movement within, in circular patterns forming
a design we may call a crafted life, as if a spider weaving its web, or random
darts of tiny beings in a flurry we may call the rat race, like dust specks in
a disarray by the beam of a sunray.
Some prefer to carefully carve and structure their days,
years, journey into equal parts, compartmentalizing each aspect so one may not
cross the other. Professional connections remain at work while personal friends
never meet colleagues. Ethnic friends don’t mix with neighborhood circle while
girlfriends never meet husbands or guy friends are never introduced to wives.
There is a pattern to the day to day activity with schedules, routines, daily
objectives, life goals until their circle is complete. The ants march in a straight
line in their structured form while bees design their intricate hives each
following a grand plan, wishes of a higher power or merely their instinct.
Those running around as if chasing their tails dart through
life or scurry along without aim, either hiding, hunting or to belong. They ride the wave
with its high and low motion, towards or away from things, circular or in
linear fashion, and then scatter in body, in mind, in spirit diverging to spaces away
from our center.
Living by design or darting like the sperms blindly seeking an
egg, structured or in a disarray, space and all life within it appears to be circular.
From the egg to the chicken, there is no beginning or an end as the cycle
continues endlessly, just as the rotating earth, the revolving moon, the rising
and setting sun. But every circle has a center even as it endures its continuous
motion with its constant whir of activity. That center is what the whirling dervishes
seek as they find stillness in their motion and hope to unite the cells that
make us, and the universe, whole. All space is full and empty, still and
buzzing, timeless and transient.
It may not even be circular but infinity (∞), with waves of
particles zip past within the figure eight, in a never-ending motion. We are in
the universe and the universe is within us and we as human beings are simply zipping
through life in this space-less, timeless, ethereal form. We are here to use
this empty space to its fullest between our birth and death, and make every
cell charged and dynamic, and sparkle like the stars we see at night. We are
stardust after all!
