I oftentimes believe in the Devil more than I believe in God. But such a thing is so easy to fall prey to when the sentient organs of mortal human experience, by Truth's indiscriminate hand, are dealt the first blows of the Profane. Yet, without first recognition of Tragedy, even Comedy turns tragic and there is no immediate cause for ever redeeming ourselves. But perhaps we do not need tragedy of any form or kind? Perhaps the tragedy is in the absurd convictions with which we create something out of what is essentially, nothing other than what it just is. But the question is-How? How now, once the acknowledgement is made, do we let go to let it all go? For the very act of surrender requires an inscience of self-sense which we are not even capable of and which would not even be in our best interest to coddle. Must Time be so consumed and must Life be, so jeopardized by this existential juggling act? And this is where the metaphysical comes in. The matter behind 'mind vs. matter', 'evil vs. good', 'the temporal vs. the eternal', 'the material vs. the intangible', 'the intellectual vs. the intuitive' and last but not least, 'the self vs. others'. Many believe that this struggle is, in and of itself, the meaning and purpose of mortal human existence. And such a statement betrays not legitimacy, as more than half of our mundane daily lives are directly or indirectly concerned with and in pursuit of the best possible life lived. From what to eat or not eat for breakfast, to what vocation or calling to devote ourselves to, every moment of human consciousness is wrought with the weight of choice. Choices and decisions, some of which have to do with larger, broader philosophical and existential and even religious/spiritual issues and others, more mundane, and, not necessarily less important, yet still, always in conflict with the full actualization of the Higher Self. Yet, it cannot be denied but however much we attempt to attribute a factor of nihility to our own individual fates and existences, truly there is no such thing, for we all feel a pull towards something far from arbitrary or worthy of our feigned Apathy and Indifference. It is a seemingly undying, instinctual longing for Life over Death-even that Death Before Dying-a faint murmur of Exhultation and Life-Force felt within us, striving to be potentiated. Even in moments of suicidal ideation, there is never a true desire for Death, merely a fear of Life. There is never really a 'beyond the shadow of a doubt'. Things are far too complex and their totality incomprehensible to us on every level at all times for such labels to be justified. Whatever we choose to call this invisible yet dynamic force, somehow we know that this life does have a higher and much larger purpose and intent. It is as real to us as our very own breath and consciousness. And truly, Disbelief 'tis also a delusion, for even the most self-confessed and professed Faithless believe quite fervently and religiously in their Disbelief, do they not? Life is consciousness and consciousness in and of itself, is a profound miracle and act of great Faith. And whom and what are we and are we not to so arrogantly dictate the order of things? The classifications of what is 'real' and what is 'dismissable'. Reality vs. Fantasy and how our society so assigns them their place, but always at too great of a price. For is not Humankind's ability to Dream and to Imagine the very things upon which all is built? If only we could evolve to a plane where the two aspects-the Practical vs. the Metaphysical-the Platonian vs. the Aristotelian-could more peaceably coexist and even collude in what we call "the real world", there is no telling what we as a species could achieve. For, in the current cultural milieu, the idealists, the romantics, the artists, the metaphysicians and philosophers get short-shrift. And Life begins to feel more like a Gehenna, an affliction of unbearable existential asphyxiation and nullity. Yet, we are all orphans of that Lost Paradise and potentially prodigal children of this, our Earth Orphanage and its Head Master, Satan. Yet in closing, all I can think of to say is: If but only we could fully feel God our Father's sense of Grief, Loss & Sorrow wrought by all of this, would we have no doubt ever again, just how deeply and powerfully we are loved and valued.
-An essay composed about 7 years ago by Valerie Lynn Stephens-added to blog on Saturday, November 5, 2011
