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jenettOne of the things I got asked to do for my 3rd degree was to write my personal cosmology. It came out rather differently than I thought it would (and one can see a certain amount of T.S. Eliot influence in the last stanza.)
I thought I'd share. (Please don't redistribute without talking to me for permission. For one thing, I should probably turn it in before it goes anywhere. For another, there may be some further editing/additions.)
All things begin in the dark. There is the dark of the night, and the dark of the void. There is the dark of the deep spaces, of the waters, and of the patient moment. All things begin in the multitude of darks, waiting.
There is the balance of the Greek kosmos: the great ornament of the universe that shows the turning and interconnection of worlds. There can be no fire - whether in the smallest hearth, or within the bright sun - without fuel. There can be no water without the most basic elements of matter, interwoven with tiny pearls of air. There can be no earth without fire to melt and spread the elements, and water, to wear and redistribute them. There can be no air without the plants and the beings that form it - and without the warmth of the sun that give these things life and space to grow. These things grew from the dark, together and separate, shaping one another and intertwining in many-colored ways.
Were there Gods there, in the first dance of the kosmos? How could we - so far and so distant - tell?
But spirits formed as these things grew and mingled, as new shapes took root. Spirits of the great sea, and of the small lake, of the high mountain, of the leafy plants. Spirits of the caves, of the molten core, of the high atmosphere, of the crystalline gem. The great sea floor spread, and the waters above it. The air, blanketing around, and the great fires of the sun and the core of the world, shaping. The spirits stretching out in many variations across the universe.
I believe in the storm and the sea, the lightning touching the ocean afire.
This great light triggered this world's great surge of life through a prism, creating so many varieties. The tiny amoeba. The coral, and fish, and then the great creatures of the sea. The waters shifted and changed. There was land above the waves, and in time, creatures upon the land - small and awkward at first, but growing in wonder and multitudes. As those creatures grew into mankind, I believe that the spirits also changed. That those great spirits of the waters, of the hills, of the rocks, of the trees, of all the types of life there are became new and changed and glorious.
Do they have a single source, a single Divine Parentage?
In some sense, yes, for all things come from that first fire and that first ocean. But they grew so differently, as children do. Some enjoy each other's company. Others tolerate it. There are ancient, longstanding loves and fears, competitions and cooperations.
Does their lineage truly matter?
What matters is in the doing: the actions and interactions. There are old Gods whose names are forgotten. Some continue to reach out to those who would listen to them. Others, perhaps, do not. Some Gods are long-famous, their tales told for millenia, from elder to younger, changing slowly in the telling, but holding the essential Truths that all tales bring. There are the spirits of the fire and air, water and earth. The mystical creatures. The Guardians. All formed over time, from interaction after interaction, as all beings are, but still individual and distinct. Themselves.
I believe in the memory, and in the future.
In the thought and the form.
In the possibility of change and growth.
And becoming new once again.
I thought I'd share. (Please don't redistribute without talking to me for permission. For one thing, I should probably turn it in before it goes anywhere. For another, there may be some further editing/additions.)
All things begin in the dark. There is the dark of the night, and the dark of the void. There is the dark of the deep spaces, of the waters, and of the patient moment. All things begin in the multitude of darks, waiting.
There is the balance of the Greek kosmos: the great ornament of the universe that shows the turning and interconnection of worlds. There can be no fire - whether in the smallest hearth, or within the bright sun - without fuel. There can be no water without the most basic elements of matter, interwoven with tiny pearls of air. There can be no earth without fire to melt and spread the elements, and water, to wear and redistribute them. There can be no air without the plants and the beings that form it - and without the warmth of the sun that give these things life and space to grow. These things grew from the dark, together and separate, shaping one another and intertwining in many-colored ways.
Were there Gods there, in the first dance of the kosmos? How could we - so far and so distant - tell?
But spirits formed as these things grew and mingled, as new shapes took root. Spirits of the great sea, and of the small lake, of the high mountain, of the leafy plants. Spirits of the caves, of the molten core, of the high atmosphere, of the crystalline gem. The great sea floor spread, and the waters above it. The air, blanketing around, and the great fires of the sun and the core of the world, shaping. The spirits stretching out in many variations across the universe.
I believe in the storm and the sea, the lightning touching the ocean afire.
This great light triggered this world's great surge of life through a prism, creating so many varieties. The tiny amoeba. The coral, and fish, and then the great creatures of the sea. The waters shifted and changed. There was land above the waves, and in time, creatures upon the land - small and awkward at first, but growing in wonder and multitudes. As those creatures grew into mankind, I believe that the spirits also changed. That those great spirits of the waters, of the hills, of the rocks, of the trees, of all the types of life there are became new and changed and glorious.
Do they have a single source, a single Divine Parentage?
In some sense, yes, for all things come from that first fire and that first ocean. But they grew so differently, as children do. Some enjoy each other's company. Others tolerate it. There are ancient, longstanding loves and fears, competitions and cooperations.
Does their lineage truly matter?
What matters is in the doing: the actions and interactions. There are old Gods whose names are forgotten. Some continue to reach out to those who would listen to them. Others, perhaps, do not. Some Gods are long-famous, their tales told for millenia, from elder to younger, changing slowly in the telling, but holding the essential Truths that all tales bring. There are the spirits of the fire and air, water and earth. The mystical creatures. The Guardians. All formed over time, from interaction after interaction, as all beings are, but still individual and distinct. Themselves.
I believe in the memory, and in the future.
In the thought and the form.
In the possibility of change and growth.
And becoming new once again.
