|The Free Spirit Page|
| ...I was determined never to be harnessed, nor blend-in, nor lose myself in the traps of mankind's errors. I would only dissolve, and live, and become whole in the remaining untouched wilds of our sick and agonizing earth.
I had no home, no responsibility, no bills, no future. I lived in the cold and rainy forest, ate beans and bread, drank cheap wine, made love to wise and beautiful women, learned my own lessons from my own heart, and spoke with God occasionally. I would not trade that period of my life for the whole world.
…To live purposelessly on this earth for a while is a true stunt and a valuable asset to the rounding off of one's character. To step out on the limb where meaning can't follow, where the world sheds it's linear veneer, and the self sheds all definition, is to walk on thin ice over a bottomless ocean. But at times there is nothing like it. Once you get a taste and a liking for it there is little in life to compare.
The world's grey and banal ways become hideous intrusions into the electrifying and vertiginous heights one can soar up to when the mind is finally addled and the new eyes opened.
To exist in that simple state of disorientation, to desire it, and to need it, is to detest the world of action, purpose, and reason, for these add nothing to the glorious endowment but only obstruct the joy of the glide.
I wanted only to continue not belonging, not understanding, not trying, nor seeking; I wanted to learn to hover in the full-blown magic of life and to fall away without caring. I wanted to desist without conviction, to melt into the mystery laughing and aghast and to be done with mankind's useless games forever.
…It is the spiritless fears of society which have led to our current destruction. That is why we live in little boxes which block out the light and silence the wind. That is why we live with blind eyes that can hardly see, and with hearts that barely feel. That is what they have done to us.
And though it is easy to accuse the world of the contorted conditions of the day- for certainly therein lies no innocence, and I will never forget the perpetual atrocities committed by mankind which succeed only to further lead the individual away from their true self- in the end it was not the world which bound me into the prison of the false life, but my own trespasses therein, and eventually I recognized that it is up to each of us to stay or to leave, forgive or hate, to doubt or to believe, and until a person comes humbly to that arduous understanding, all their little games of emancipation will merely build more solid walls.
Oh, but how strenuous it is to live free in a world which honors the hard parts; to be on your own, completely and only dependent upon yourself, where no institution, nor church, nor school knows or is inclined to empathize or assist you. To live as a spirit is to be outcast and dishonored among men, because to live as such means you must break their rules, scorn their taboos, and destroy the lie they've come to believe in, for they know not yet that God is insane, and that all who run with God must be mad as well. God exists beyond reason, beyond meaning, beyond right or wrong, even beyond hope. To be with God means you are done for; you are now vermin, now a fool, now a traitor, now an eyesore, now a useless and incapable, worthless specimen of mankind. That is what it takes, that is what God requires. The only question remaining is- are you up for it?
To live as a spirit is to feel and follow the true pulse of the true heart of the true life and to live from that core and that core alone. It is to ascend to the level of the living dream, to enter the portal of sublimity, to exist on the diaphanous plane of passion and piety. To live on this tired earth as a spirit is to enter the stream and get lost in the current, it is to ride the wave that never crashes, and to slip through the walls of false being, false meaning, false worth. But you must live it. You cannot read about it, talk about it, or understand it. The only thing to do is to let go of the world and grab hold of the sky. To embrace the wild fecundity of the soft reality. To banish all fear, expectation, comfort, and worry. To find your essence, grow your essence, be your essence. To live as a spirit is to never set down, to never alight, to never get caught. It is to give way to the Juggernaut of mankind, but to not give yourself away. It is to look to the birds for example, to the trees for love, and to the great soul for communion. To live as a spirit in this spiritless world is to enter a realm which no one else belongs in nor understands; it is to break the veil and dance along the membrane; it is to punch a hole in the heavens and send a flood of life down through yourself to a world of disbelief and anguish. It is to relearn a way of being which will mesmerize and horrify your fellows, and in which you find a new set of ups and downs, losses and victories, sorrows and joys to which the world is wholly blind. To live on this earth as a spirit is to become a spirit, and that means- if you are strong and sedulous enough to maintain it- to break the chain of causality, leap off the wheel, and to leave this hardened world for good.
I had tried long enough to devour our ancient, dyspeptic ambrosia, our emetic soma, and our indigestible manna. But I had come with an insatiable hunger which the world could not satisfy. I was hungry for Life, and I began to eat and never have I stopped.
… To live life is to bring your death back to Life, and then to bring Life back to mankind- back to this mummified race, caught in an endless cycle of delusion and imagination. To live life is to take Life down into the lair of Death, and to dance upon the tombstones.
To live life is to tune into the music of the spheres, to open up and give your whole soul to it so that it will get inside and move you. And when it seeps in and grabs you- grabs you like a wave in a waterless ocean- then you must dance like hell, and never stop dancing. You must rise to the rhythm and song, touch the earth beneath you, kick off your shoes and forget. You must hold your curses, and pocket your blame, because, Spirit, you're only here to dance.
|Excerpted from IN, AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey, by Jack Haas. (Iconoclast Press, 2002)
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