Basic Questions


Basic Questions


So I ask

what all humans have asked

from the very beginning,

the primary questions

we all ask ourselves,

that we ask our imaginations

unless we are willing to take

someone else´s word for it,

because who else is there to ask,

unless we invent someone,

and how can any answer come to be

unless someone imagines it first.


The moment we are born

we ask the four basic questions

in the language of cries and salty tears,

“What am I, who am I and what am I doing here

and what does it all mean?”

These questions are the ones

that lead to all other questions.

They are our primal prayers

and the numerous answers

which we have imagined

are the basis

for all the personalities, religions and

civilizations that have ever been

and considering how that’s worked out,

maybe it’s a good idea to ask them more ofter

with fresh eyes and ears and no preconceptions .


So I ask,

“What is this self that inhabits this husk of me?”

“Why, of all billions of various forms

that exist in creation,

has this one chosen me?

Why THIS body,

THIS life,

THIS moment,

THIS experience

of suffering and joy,

THIS situation, over which, I have so little control?”


So I sit by my window

and wait for the answers to emerge

from somewhere,

and what I see out there while I´m waiting,

is the cycle of the seasons,

the cycle of life and death and

how everything in this world

comes and goes.

Again and again,

I see the leaves falling from the trees

which then become compost

and feed the tree

which then, leafs out again.

And then there are the raindrops

which come down from the clouds

and follow all those rivers and streams

to the sea

where they evaporate and form clouds again,

over and over,

around and around and around it goes…….


And I think,

Since all these forms

keep on repeating themselves,

then maybe it´s the same with me,

but then I think,

“Can an ego, a personality

exist beyond the body?

Isn´t the individual leaf or raindrop

just a form?”

“Well,” I answer myself, “I suppose egos and personalities are forms too.  There may have been

a lot of other people that have been similar me,

but it seems doubtful that they were me,

because a son is not his father,

and a moment is never the same

as the previous moment

and nothing is really completely the same

as anything that came before it

yet much, if not all, is a result of it,

but since I don´t seem to be able to

remember anything before

this particular memory came into being,

I don’t want to take responsibility

for anything that came before,

do I? Although we DO

have the ability to forgive.


So I continue to sit at my window, watching

from behind these eyes with their limited view,

for a long time,

watching all those comings and goings,

all those fractals of existence

swirling and flowing around me

as if I were the center of it all,

and then I realize

that I AM the center of it all

but everyplace else is the center of it all too,

in fact, if that spot over there is the center of it all,

then I´m just another small part of everything

spinning around that center of everything

in some gigantic swirl,

maybe a solar system or a galaxy

or a hurricane or something,

that I really don´t have any control over.


And in a way,

I´m actually both bigger and smaller

than myself,

no more significant

than the tiniest particle of stardust,

just another fractal in the universe

in  some enormously greater imagination

than my own,

but which I am part of

and is therefor also myself.


And I think,

maybe, this smaller self,

this identity I have been cultivating

and presume to be myself,

is nothing more than an illusion, a trick,

because, you know,

I don´t think any of those leaves or raindrops

even have names

and I doubt they ask any questions

or have imaginations of their own to ask.

And yet,

each one is just a little different from the other

if you look close enough,

and one leaf is not another,

not the same leafy bunch of leaf cells at all,

and all the raindrops have

the same sort of molecules,

but each one is a distinct raindrop,

a unique individual, raindrop,

for just the time it takes

to fall out of a cloud and down to the earth

and go splat

into a bunch of even tinier droplets.


So perhaps,

the significance of those differences

is only important for a short period of time,

and only,

in relation to all the other raindrops

as they flow together into rivers and streams

then become the sea again,

the same the way the leaves and limbs

branch out to make a tree,


And perhaps

our own identities,

our own individualities,

with all our successes and failures,

all those achievements we are so proud of

and those sins and crimes we

we feel guilty of, our secrets,

all that,

which separates us from one another,

you from me and me from you,

is only significant

in our relations to one another,

and in how we treat one another

and love one another

and where we are going with all that together,

which we DO have some control over,

within the great imagination,

which has conceived it all

the great sea in which each of us

is only a mere temporary drop

of our true self.


Do you think that any of this might be possibly so?

Does any of this make sense to you?


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