Intuitions in the Dark (5)
Going underground, in a tunnel, through darkness, is different to being in the air, above the ground. In the latter, you are above the world, rehearsing death in its soaring phase, freedom aflight, surveying the kingdom of things, of the terrestrial realm, among the clouds. Above, the mind drifts with notions of angels, of the heavens, of weightlessness. But in the former, you are in the earth, below the surface, encompassed by matter, floating through the womb of beginnings, for birth begins in darkness, the first and most momentous journey of them all, or the last. Or the place of destiny.
For the womb is as much destiny as chamber. The womb contains it all, inner light, first formations, rehearsal of all the future stages. The womb is the microcosm of the world. It is the primal stage, the first drama, the original theatre. We are delivered from the inner womb to the outer womb. The world is a giant womb too, in which, maybe, we rehearse being born, rehearse our futures, prepare our ends.
The world is as much a destiny as the womb is, surrounded by sky and air, water and fire and matter. And all of humanity is but one being, one multiple child, one cell, one idea, one thought, one drama, enclosed within a stage.
And the ether beyond the sun, the universe at large, has its greater darkness, encompassing, much as the womb does.
And speeding in a train, within a tunnel, is much like a movable pod or womb, a journey through death as towards light. But it is the death aspect that is the most enlightening. For how we are in that movable dying tells us how we will be in the light of the life to come. The tunnel gives meaning and value to the light, if we get there…
And it was in the tunnel, in the dark stage of an unscripted initiation, that the unfolding drama of the muddling crew revealed its next act.