Among Sinologists there is a folk legend about the first westerners—a group of Jesuit scholars—to study the I Ching in the seventeenth century. The enterprise began with great energy and hope, the language was learned, the meanings deciphered and pondered over. Then tragedy struck. Several of the brilliant young men went insane. The difficulty of understanding the I Ching's wisdom within western categories of mind simply overwhelmed these dedicated men. In the end, the Society of Jesus was forced to abandon the project and even to forbid further study of this exotic Chinese scripture.
The story, even if apocryphal, throws light on Dr. José Argüelles' work, for he too has plunged wholeheartedly into what, for the western mind, is an equally baffling system of knowledge, the Tzolkin of the Maya. After a lifetime spiralling around this enigma, Dr. Argüelles has emerged with his story of what it means, and it is a wild story indeed. We are asked to consider—among other equally "outrageous" claims—the following:
First, that human history is shaped in large part by a galactic beam through which the Earth and Sun have been passing for the last 5000 years, and that a great moment of transformation awaits us as we arrive at the beam's end in 2012;
Second, that the activities and world views of cultures follow the nature of the "galactic seasons", the code of which has been captured both mathematically and symbolically by the Maya;
Third, that each person has the power to connect directly—sensously, sensually, electromagnetically—with the energy/information of this beam that emanates from the galactic core, and can in this way awaken to one's true mind, higher mind, deepest mind.
Undoubtedly many will think that Dr. Argüelles has gone the way of the Jesuits who disappeared into the I Ching—mad, manic, and marooned in private delusions. Certainly Dr. Argüelles himself is aware of the shocking nature of his conclusions. He warns us honestly at the beginning: "For me the situation meant taking a leap, plunging off the edge, as it were, into mental territory that had been declared extinct or tabu by the prevailing cultural standards". And certainly his work has both the extravagance and muddiness of every fresh vision of reality, and this alone makes reading his book a challenge, even aside from the cosmic magnitude of his claims.
Having said all that, let me indicate why I think that Dr. Argüelles' vision is of profound worth. I am convinced that any vision of the universe that doesn't shock us is without value for us. We must bear in mind that we reasonable westerners, we rational Christian-Judaic-secular-democratic citizens are the ones who hold the Earth hostage with our nuclear weapons. We modern industrialists are the ones who carry out the ecocide that has spread over every continent.
To say a vision of the universe is "reasonable" means that it fits into this modern world view that initiated and supports this global terror. We don't need reasonable visions; we need the most outrageously wild visions of the universe we can find. Dr. Argüelles' vision qualifies.
But his vision is not just wild. With the unerring accuracy of all genius, Dr. Argüelles knows that western science and western society's only hope for balance is by fully assimilating the cosmology of the primal peoples, and in particular that of the Maya. Why should the primal cosmologies be singled out? Because primal peoples begin with the same conviction: the Earth, the Sun, the galaxy, the universe—everything everywhere is alive and intelligent.
What is required of us is humility. We who were trained in the modern world view that frames and supports our militarism, consumerism, patriarchy, and anthropocentrism need to recognize our fatal mistake—we began with the assumption that the universe is dead, devoid of feeling and intelligence and purpose. Can we find the courage to shake ourselves away from that fatal delusion? Can we find the wisdom to turn to the Maya and their science and learn the truth of the universe?
In the remainder of this introduction, I would like to comment at some length on Dr. Argüelles' three "outrageous" claims. Since my own training is in mathematical physics, my line of thought necessarily reflects the contours of contemporary science. But I need to emphasize here that I am not attempting to put the Mayan vision into modern, scientific categories. The Mayan cosmology cannot be put into modern, scientific categories. But there emerges in our time a post-modern science, a scientific orientation that assimilates the world view of the primal peoples with the world view of modern science. It is from the context of this holistic, pan-human, post-modern science that I speak.
First, the galactic beam, through which the Maya claim we are passing. To start, let me say that modern science has never spoken of such a beam in the way the Maya do. But physicists have recently become aware of ways in which we are influenced by beams passing through the galaxy, and this by itself is news. Current astrophysics describes these beams as density waves that sweep through the galaxy and that influence galactic evolution. For instance, our Sun's birth was the result of this wave. The density wave passed through and ignited a giant star, which exploded and evoked our own Sun's existence.
In fact, all star formation is due primarily to these beams sweeping through our galaxy. We can begin to formulate the notion of the galaxy as an organism, one involved in its own development. We speak of the "self-organizing dynamics" of the galaxy. Or, from a more organismic perspective, we speak of the galaxy as unfolding—the birth of stars are pictured as part of the galactic epigenesis. The Sun, then, is seen as activated by dynamics governed by the galactic center; just so, the eye of a frog is seen as activated by the dynamics governed by its own organismic center.
The obvious question is this: Just how far does the galactic dynamism go with respect to the development of the Sun and its evolving planets? That is, do the galaxy's dynamics have only to do with the ignition of the Sun after which the Sun and Earth are on their own? Or is the galactic beam involved with the evolution of life?
A couple of comments are needed here. First, it can be said quite simply that the galaxy is continually involved with the evolution of Earth and its life. The galactic density beams have swept through the galaxy over the entire 4.55 billion years of the Sun's existence, and whenever these pass through the Sun, they alter its dynamics and thus alter the radiant energy that bathes the Earth. I have no doubt that, as evolutionary biologists begin to reflect on this, they will articulate the ways in which the development of life on Earth has been shaped by these dynamics. We will become increasingly aware that the shape of the elm leaf has been molded not just by natural selection on Earth, but by the action of the galaxy as a whole.
Secondly, we need to recognize that it was simply impossible for modern science to notice the existence of a galactic beam such as the Maya describe. Modern science focused on material, on its change of position. All qualities—colors, smells, emotions, feelings, intuitions—were termed secondary, and dismissed. That is, we committed ourselves from the beginning to a mode of consciousness that was never going to recognize the Mayan galactic beam.
What needs to be appreciated at the same time is just how difficult it was to do what modern science has done. For instance, to notice empirically that the Sun has a beginning—that is an accomplishment requiring a very heightened mode of consciousness. Just think how exotic consciousness had to become to actually see the continents move! Or to actually hear the echo of the primeval fireball twenty billion years ago at the beginning of time! By recognizing modern science's particular development of consciousness, we can begin to forgive its oversights, and to appreciate other modes of consciousness, developed around different cultural projects.
The Maya were a people intoxicated with a different cultural aim which required an entirely different development of consciousness. Where the modern scientists have been able to detect experientially the physical effects of density beams sweeping through the galaxy, the Maya were able to detect experientially beams with different efficacies, beams that influenced not the birth and functioning of stars, but the birth and functioning of ideas, of visions, of convictions. Or rather, what I myself think is the case: both the modern scientists and the Maya respond to the same beams. The modern scientists developed a mode of consciousness enabling them to articulate the physical effects of these beams; the Maya developed a consciousness enabling them to articulate the psychic effects of these beams.
Second, the galactic seasons. The Maya, in Dr. Argüelles' presentation, taught that each era has a particular quality to it, one favoring a special type of activity, and all of this is captured in the code of the Tzolkin. By knowing the galactic code to the seasons, one can anticipate their arrival and can thus act accordingly, and with great effect. Such an orientation to the universe was common to most primal peoples, though perhaps none had the exquisite nuance of the Maya. Furthermore, early and medieval western religious tradition has a similar conception of time, where each moment or era had its special quality given to it by the heart of the divine; knowing the quality of the moment enabled one to enter deeply into divine activity.
My own way of approaching this idea of a "galactic season" is via the twenty billion years of cosmic history. When we examine our account of what has actually happened, we see that each era has its special quality, its unique moment, its particular creativity.
For instance, a half-million years into the cosmic epic, the time arrived for creating the hydrogen atoms. We need to emphasize here that this creativity is intrinsically tied to the macrophase nature of the cosmos in that moment. Until then, hydrogen atoms were not created; afterwards, hydrogen atoms were not created. But at that time hydrogen atoms could and did leap into being by the quintillion. There are dozens of such examples throughout all eras of the cosmic epic, but perhaps we can stay with the emergence of the hydrogen atoms to make the point concerning activity inherent to a cosmic season.
Prior to the emergence of hydrogen, it was in fact possible for an individual hydrogen atom to form. But to do so required a tremendous expenditure of energy. And the atom quickly melted away in the primeval furnace. To create hydrogen atoms at other times was to work against the grain of the universe. Effortless and abundant creativity depends on both the innate urgency of hydrogen to emerge on the one hand, and the quality of the time of the universe on the other. It was only when, to quote Dr. Argüelles, "momentary need joined with universal purpose" that effective creativity happened. When the quality of the universe shifted to invite hydrogen atoms into existence, they poured forth in great abundance. The existence of these cosmic and galactic seasons is found everywhere throughout the twenty billion years of existence.
The question immediately surfaces in the western mind: "There may be seasons for the birth of atoms, or of galaxies, or of primitive cells. But what about my own thoughts? What about human culture? Are these affected by galactic times?" This brings us to our discussion of:
Third, personal interaction with the galactic mind. Indeed, what can we say about this notion of galactic intelligence and purpose?
I saved this point for last, because here we deal with the deepest reaches of the western psyche's repression. The Maya felt they were engaged with the mind of the Sun, which manifested for them the mind and heart of the galaxy. The Maya felt that the galaxy had desires. Modern scientists heard that and relegated the Maya to the "fairy tale" bin. But our rejection of their wisdom only reveals our dangerously lopsided psychic condition.
Consider this. Our intellectual ancestors in 17th-century Europe could stand before a screaming animal convinced that the animal had no feelings. When asked how they could be so cold-hearted, they explained that these animals were just machines that had been damaged; they emitted awful sounds just as any machine does when damaged.
As their descendants, we have the same distorted sensibilities. How else can we remain apathetic as the living world howls in anguish throughout the planet today? I bring this up with the hope that once we suspect the truth—that our modern sensibility is the most deformed in all 50,000 years of Homo sapiens' existence—we will begin the task of awakening the full spectrum of human psychic sensitivity. Only then will we stop our assault on life. Only then will we live an ecstatic existence similar to the Maya.
Our difficulty stems from our cultural mistake of thinking of hydrogen atoms and stars and so forth as "just physical", and ourselves and our psychic life as transcendent, as utterly disconnected from the universe.
The cosmic creation story of post-modern science offers a different starting point: the universe as a single multiform energy event. And thus human consciousness and the human body and owl consciousness and the owl body are all flowerings of one numinous cosmic process. In this holistic orientation, we can begin to appreciate the way in which our thoughts and bones and intuitions (and the thoughts and bones and intuitions of the owl) are all weavings of the same fundamental sacred dynamics.
Within this perspective, "feelings" are not fabricated in the transcendent human mind. Instead, feelings are transmitted, just as photons are transmitted. This is really the most ordinary experience. A person standing in the presence of a magnificent granite cliff is suffused with all sorts of feelings; these are the feelings that the mountain has communicated to the human.
Consider, then, a Maya standing bathed in the Sun's light. What can we say is happening? This event, like every event, is simultaneously psychical and physical. We can speak of the quantum electrodynamic interaction of the Sun's photons with the human electrons; or we can speak of the feelings and intuitions that are experienced "within". The totality of the event demands that both poles be taken together. The Sun is both heating the skin and igniting the mind; the Sun is both sharing its warmth and expressing its inner feeling; the Sun is both transmitting its thermonuclear energy and projecting its ideas and demands.
It is difficult to stop reflecting on the fascinating ideas found in Dr. Argüelles' book. Jump in and see for yourself. May you return with new power for activating the health and creativity of the Earth Community!
Brian Swimme
Institute in Culture and Creation Spirituality
Holy Names College, Oakland.