Young girl with young puppy on leash walks with father along dew sparkling grass. Fishing boat, Brenda and Lee, slowly moves out channel to open bay beyond Indian Island at entrance to Rockport Harbor.
Boat lift at Rockport Marine swinging cradle slows and stops. Docks are in. Gangplanks set on Marine Park side of harbor head, flags at half-staff waver north to south. Sun holds everything in unclouded embrace.
In my view of the world, which is semi-Buddhist, semi-Hindu, the Creator and the Creature are one, and all beings whatsoever are the masks and plays and ploys of the central self, there is just this self, which plays itself through all forms, through all of us, endlessly.
(--in Four Ways to Center, by Alan Watts)
Browning's words in "Pippa's Song" draw attention to a state of being we've come look at skeptically. We want to protest his concluding lines:
THE year ’s at the spring,
And day ’s at the morn;
Morning ’s at seven;
The hill-side ’s dew-pearl'd;
The lark ’s on the wing;
The snail ’s on the thorn;
God ’s in His heaven—
All ’s right with the world!
Robert Browning (1812-1889)
But why protest? Is it because we see corruption and dangerous points of view emerging? Maybe because just about every day a gunner slays civilians in supermarkets, workplaces, or eating joints? Perhaps because advertisements and propaganda and lies fill airways we thought were for different uses and purposes?
We say, and are confident in our saying, "Things aren't right."
Hard to argue that pronouncement.
But aren't things always both right and not right at the same time?
Some claim if each of us is playing "itself" in the world, then each of us is determining what is there to be experienced, there to be seen, there to be lived through.
And yet, it is a shared world wherein we dwell.
It is not within the power of a single individual to engineer and set the causes and conditions for everyone else in its landscape. Hence, the difficulty of living in such a diverse uncontrollable ecosystem of mineral, insect, animal, and (so-called) rational animal on the planet. Not to mention Watts' creator, urges and demiurges, all sharing the walkways and trails of countryside.
One being cannot determine One-Being.
But one person can look out and see the world as it is in itself.
As it is in itself is prior to the determinations made by preference, opinion, and judgment.
We long to know if that ground of being is right, and good, and just. As if such an understanding mind and heart would make it so.
But -- is it so? Right, and just, and good? Is it so in our sight as that which is at ground and that which is coming to be?
(--from, Speech: “” BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, (from , spoken by Jaques)
The part I play, the part you play -- has someone written it? Or are we part of an improvisation playing off one another creating scene after scene, opening and closing, an open-air theater for an audience on edge of seats ready to jump up and continue the endless scenario of creative discourse and intercourse and recourse to one another in playful, joyful, aesthetic.
Yes, that's it. The play of aesthetic interconnection. That's what we are.
But first -- we have to see it, hear it, feel it, long for it -- as we step on stage to become it.
And we are becoming, (i.e. attractively suitable).
As we become what we are to be.