The Consolation of Nature

April 8, 2012
There were many days in the youngest hour of my life in which I felt suppressed under an indefinable entelechy; a time when isolation and ennui and their absurd dispositions were at a zenith, and I, in a summer doze, ventured out into the celestial night with hopes to find answers to my insatiable desires that were. I knew not where in the character of such a young mind these answers may lie, but so I went, on to find something that I, as each human, needs in a way that was inconceivable to my mind at the time. This, as I later concluded, was inspiration; motivation; the desire to desire something, which, each in their own ways are paradoxical within themselves as I now understand them.


I soon came upon a tree, which drew out some ill-acquainted phenomenon that was, and still is, the consolation of curiosity; which of course, is now closer to me than I ever thought possible. As I drew closer to the tree, its lonely but nevertheless invitational disposition welcomed me, and, with some transient and amiable perception, I knew that we were to be friends. I felt just fine, and had no desire to elude from this. It became a part of me. And for the first time in my life, by some humorous mistake, I looked up into the starry night sky and there, I saw something so unfamiliar, so new, that it was not in my capacity for wonder. In that, there was a sequence of tempestuous moments where an elliptical space, completely out of the realms of time, through a transcendent beam of light resulted in my entelechy and its paradoxical entirety being realised by the infinitesimal me; while simultaneously being sent back into space in a kind of “mirror effect.” The moon’s poetical hymn opened something up inside me. I knew that there was something for me out there - I just had to find it.
Life, and all it once was, was thenceforth looked through a different perspective. Flowers, as I had once thought they were, were no longer flowers, they merely fueled my new friend - curiosity. From the ferocious gusts of wind in the midst of a cold night, to the itinerary clouds, to the snowflake, as it knows no haste, for it simply lands wherever life desires. There was a commonality between all of these new philosophies…for they created a symphony that surrounded me both day and night which fueled my aesthetic contemplation for an infinite rhapsody of words that rang in my mind as the wind speeds fluctuated. I was the wind.



Moreover, I find that it is truly remarkable, how the wind, or the sky, or the sea, in all their tenderness, can be so influential to the human mind. Each of these have their own personalities and some better teachers than others, however it is in this that I find reason and purpose. You see, in the days preceding this, I defined my life by a series of monotonic absurdities that rested in the mind of ambiguity and his fondness of torture. I was a living paradox. Now, as I am surrounded by such beauty, I have found infinite hope for the unseen that is, and a better understanding of life as it was; because in all of this, as I have found, there is nothing quite comparable to the consolation of nature.


~ “No man is an Island, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.”
- John Donne
~ “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.” (1 Corinthians 13:11)





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