I try to use words to encompass meaning. To better describe, I use more words. Sometimes I try to find the one word that would encompass all meaning. What would that word be? OM? Maybe, if I was a Hindu. So here we are again, describing the same uncertainty that a relativist view will always but unfortunately lead to. Yet here in the hopelessness of the problem, perhaps there is an answer. Not so much a “truth” that I can know is right. This answer is a different, more euphoric answer. I know it not. But as I reflect on it, I smile and I write. The moment will be fleeting. For as each blog post begins, surely it ends. My euphoria just like my pain; only temporary. But if I really knew this, I would know a “truth”. And as I said, I bear no truths… only an answer.
There was a time when Primordial Self had to take on the forms of man and woman to exist. I wonder if some force warned Self with a caveat of existence. A guardian of recreation who would say something like: “Gain the ability to be born once more and I guarantee you a cosmic infinite sea of death filled by the tears of your forgetting yourself.”
And there was poor Primordial Self with no idea who or when or where or why it was, but faced simply with the choice to continue. To this day this incarnation of Self has no idea. But if I had to defend my old actions and future ones as well to some higher guardian of the threshold, I would say: “By my actions an infinite sea of death and tears is filled, but on it’s surface floats a beautiful boat. Where on it sails, who can say? For whom does it rock sleepily in the waves?”
How often do people wish for something out of their reach? Well, if they but had the power to grab it, surely they would. To what end would they bring their conquest of will? Palaces and luxuries would seem trifle to them for they would have immortality and eternal control. How dualistic…
And if I was God? Would I have it differently? In a world of two extremes, I might be as guilty. But if I was God, who is to say that I would see past this folly with my great wisdom? I would trick my dualistic nature into a prison of discernment: making him think that he was a self that suffered in a world of others. Everything would be as it was now, and I would be realized not in one piece of the grand scheme, but in its entirety. So, if I was God, I would be writing about being God as Daniel Bank, not realizing that I was, in fact, God.
I sit on the jagged limestone overlooking the Crimson Beach of Peleliu; what a paradise it is. But in my thoughts, I grow discontent. I realize that within the century, these waters were red with blood: Men died here for purposes greater than themselves; and perhaps the greatest purpose is within them, the struggle to survive. I look down upon the rocks and see dozens of crabs hopping around and chasing each other. I laugh for a second, but recognize the same purpose within them. A blacktip distracts me as it splashes around momentarily in the waves of the ebbing tide before it submerges beneath the waves again. For the moment, I see Myself and mind the great purpose. And in my heart, i am home.
Crabs have always reminded me of survival ever since I returned from Peleliu. So I wanted to tell a story of survival with the characters being crabs. The story I chose is none other than the Bhagavad-Gita. I will do no justice to the book. I will not even come close to representing it’s ideas. The only connection is the situation: survival, and hero’s doubt arising from that.