The greatest danger of rationality and logic is not in the
method but in substituting the method for life. To apply
rational and logical processes to solve a problem is one
thing—but to try to live within a rational model is not liv-
ing. Life, with all its hell and joys, must be an adventure in
order to remain human.
Life inherently is a-rational. It is whole and chaotic. It can
only be "taken apart" for a peek. What we see is only a
dislodged part—how we live is whole. The attempt to make
life safe for breeding and for the meager indulgences of
housewives has created this new race of Zombies.
Division is simply a convenience for fulfilling the desire
to control—to have more for less. But it is this "less" that is
the lie, the ultimate illusion. This "less" is a lie greater than
any lie ever told. There is no way to have "more" for
"less." Even God gave up his solitude for "more." The
earth and the sky and the heaven are one. To divide them
for convenience is one thing—to act as if this division were
truth is another.
The facts are that with all this "more" we have "less." We
have become so rational, so logical, so full of self-satisfac-
tion that we are empty.
Yet, in this search for more individuality—more form—
we find even less and less of life. People are as empty in
their individuality as they are in their collectivity.
People feel an absence to the point that they must drown
themselves in a world of addictions. An interesting quality
about addiction, however, is that it offers the person a
chance to have the experience of re-birth. It allows him to
change—with justification. Recovery from an addiction
allows a person to change and "gives" him permission to do
things which would ordinarily disrupt his relations to those
around him. (Keep in mind that most people do not want
anyone to change.) He has hit bottom. He must learn to say
no. Much like a transpersonal crisis, recovery makes a per-
son special and unique. He has overcome. He has done
something special.
Addictions are created in order to be cured. People need
to feel and not to feel—desperately they want more in order
to pay for their debts of the past. The addiction I am refer-
ring to is called—form.
The process of substituting form for essence can only
continue for so long—ten years, twenty or one-hundred
years. Sooner, rather than later, the machine collapses and,
with the collapse, comes the potential for recovery.
We see the emptiness of dogma, the emptiness of ritual,
the true Pharisee—the middle class—lost in form and cir-
cumstances, clutching desperately to symbols. We begin to
realize that form cannot replace substance. We begin to
realize that grand ideals, assertions and "acting-out" are not
enough. We begin to realize that the Zombie is not just
within but also without.
Still , we do not yet fully appreciate the depths of this
depression—this emptiness—waiting not so silently behind
us and in front of us. Yes, there is a new force on the hori-
zon—a new cry for life. There is a strong desire to put an
end to this non-living—this powerlessness—this non-pur-
pose. The Zombie is waiting for a great thunder-storm—to
be reborn.
However, neither crying nor waiting will help—
It is the time to be bold—to dance on the edge of the
abyss—to fly again—where?
BECOME WHO YOU ARE
THERE ARE NO GUARANTEES