Magic Show
Philosophy
can get pretty dry. That’s because the people who write it think they have to
sound smart. They aren’t allowed to have much imagination or passion. Luckily,
I’m not a philosopher but a poet, and poets have lots of freedom. We can say it
any way we like. We can say it in rhyme. We can say it in images. We can say it
without any punctuation. Being a poet is great.
Recently I was reading some articles on Advaita philosophy. The basic idea of
Advaita comes close to something I really delight in, but the language is
different. How I would say it is that the mystery of creation is the best magic
trick I know.
Reality is one giant, shapeshifting consciousness that can morph itself into
anything. God becomes the cave, the sun, the water cutting through the earth,
the bee, and the child playing in the meadow. Can you beat that? It is all one
magical fabric twisted into zillions of designs. The surface of reality is
painted over again and again in billions of scenes: the streets of Calcutta, New
York City, a cruise ship, a spaceship, a family sitting around a kitchen table.
It is like being on the holodeck on the Starship Enterprise; this shapeshifting
presence can dial up anything.
You know the part I like best? It is that the magician is creating everything
out of himself! Totally. Even the image of the magician is one more trick. It
is fantastic! Unbelievable. Even I am part of this trick! The magician waves
his wand and poof! I am here,
watching. Yet I am no different than any of the other phenomena—the rabbit, the
sunset, the round globe of earth, all made of the same stuff. All made by him,
out of him, as him. (The gender here is arbitrary. I could say her.)
I am nothing but the trickster in this particular location. I’m sure glad he didn’t
give me a horn like that funny looking rhinoceros. Or spikes like a prickly
pear. I’ve never met anyone with such an imagination. And he never stops! He
just keeps creating and creating and creating. This show may go on forever.
Glad I have a front row seat, but then I suppose that could change too. He’ll
wave his magic wand and I’ll be that smudge on the wall back there. The good
news is that nothing is permanent. Anyway, who am I to say No? The shapeshifter
is willing to become anything. Shouldn’t I be too? Do I really have a choice?
Oh, I know that create-your-own-reality line, but from what I’m seeing, it’s
not me that is creating, but the One who I am. Now that’s confusing! What I
mean to say is that this little me writing is not the magician. Or am I? The
magician taking up the pen of the poet. I tell you this guy really does have no
limits! He’ll go for anything.
There’s one big trick yet to come. That’s when we all wake up and recognize how
marvelous this whole experience has been. It will be so much fun that maybe
we’ll decide to forget what we’ve discovered and start all over again.
Meanwhile, I’m holding on to my front row seat. I’ve never seen a better magic
show.
