Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Essence, i guess

I believe one of the greatest challenges in life to be not running away. To not run away from unpleasantness, to stand up and stare life in the face when it comes to get you. Nothing should be more natural than this. But how many live by their ideals? There are times when you scratch the uneven surface of something essential, of something that is pure essence. This something you have to realise is a part of yourself, and that you yourself are a seed that can grow through asphalt, air and sky. That a part of the divine lives in you. Sometimes I can feel the soil in me, bits of earth and grass and leaves that bear witness of our very natural background, but sometimes I feel more like a machine or a hard metal something in a large mechanical device, like it's just a coincidence that we bear a resemblance to chimps and other large monkeys.

Almost just as hard as this is to head straight to the core of things. To be able to see through things rather than look at them, and then again to master the skill of dissecting the matter with language of some kind - words, music, colour etc. How many are able to look at a flower, let alone a tree or the idea "society", and then produce some drops of essence while explaining it? If anyone has the insight, can he then express it so that anyone understands what he has seen?Just look at this effort of describing the problem of describing things, it doesn't make matters very clear, does it? I'm trying to describe an abstract idea (which, by the way, is itself the definition of abstract), and find it difficult to succeed. I think it is important to make an effort. It is important to practice your humanity. It can be hard work, but all the more satisfying.

Good poets tend to point directly at the core of simple or difficult matters. That is one of the reasons why I like to read.

Vind fyker gjennom steinen
Insektet summer bladets fall
Fremdeles blinker fyret

Vinterklokken tikker i feil retning
Jeg har sendt fire båter til dadlene i Egypt
Min smerte er røkelse

Gresset hersker over mitt velkjente mørke
Døden retter tomheten opp med graner

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