Poetic Motion

I am sitting not far from the time of action, making it born in the mind. I wonder if this is going to become how I mean it, and only hope that the wisdom lies in the fingers and can explore itself through the intelligence of the body.

There is a perfection in the intelligence latent in matter that the conscious mind knows nothing of. Or, if I am kind, almost nothing; we'll give ourselves a little credit, a little leeway. How is it that we've become so divorced from this natural intelligence? Maybe because we don't even acknowledge its loss among us. We think we know, we think we act, and we think we become, but we live in a cage and decorate it in a lively manner. It still remains the cage, though, and we remain unaware of what lies outside the cage.

How to undo the walls of this cage? To live more freely and more completely. This is, I feel, an important question that deserves serious inquiry.

Careful observation, intense scrutiny, and much honesty with self; maybe these qualities will allow the walls "to come tumbling down." There is the feeling that little will change until effort changes into something, a palpable dissolvent maybe, that can effectively remove the barriers to realization. REAL-ization. The process of becoming real, not fake, not imaginary.

Is it that we live so much in the mind, and admire its many and varied creations, that we feel nothing outside its domain? The mind is a useful tool, no doubt, but has it and its primary expression, thought and thinking, been overrated? Are they all that is? What I'm getting at is, is there something else available to the human outside or separate from mind that can do for us what the mind cannot?

A special device. A new quality of being. A different faculty than we've used up to this point. We must proceed carefully, full of care, here, for asking if something exists apart from the mind that can do what the mind cannot do (or seemingly cannot do for us, since it has had its chance now for ages) is moving into new territory and questioning the very apparatus that questions itself.

For, for most, we exist in our minds. The mind is the "sine qua non," the mechanism through which the world is organized and acted upon, for better or worse.

But the prospect of something new outside of or above mind is exciting, to say the least. Where would this something be? Where would it be found, or express itself? "Up there," in Heaven?
Or, more simply, in the body itself?

Here I refer the reader to the work or Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, excellently expounded elsewhere for the interested inquirer to peruse.

There is, perhaps, a profound intelligence latent in the cells, encoded in DNA, active in the atom, etcetera, that remains a mystery to our waking life.

When will we choose to wake this life? Do we have the courage? The patience? The necessary faith?

I am not asking for blind belief. I am asking for earnest inquiry, scientific experiment, and honest reporting (even if only self-reporting) of the results. I am calling for a deep, living anthropology: a new science of man, unafraid to admit dream, wonder, and mystery as its sister disciplines. But don't accept. Find out. Join in the immense importance of the endeavor. Everything might hinge on it.

So, in the body. A poetic motion. An immediate knowledge. An unfolding science for you and he and she and I to know, explore, investigate and experiment with. No longer a knowledge "out there" but one intimately "here." A subjective science, the science of the self.

What would the meeting of science and art look like? Would it be non-mechanical beauty? How would it change our way of seeing the world? And, for that matter, what is seeing (the world, and all else) anyway?

Go ahead, find out. Poetic motion.