To know the world, the mouth must first make words. I speak, therefore I am and can know the world. Being conscious is a poetic act, a participatory co-creation of life and all that is. That it is co-creationary also makes being conscious a process of discovery. The human universe is populated by countless centers of free activity, and each for the other presents the possibility of unending surprise. Consciousness depends upon expression as much as perception, upon giving as much as taking. I get and have ideas, but so too do I make them. If the world is a picture in my mind, an ideal model, then the mind is its painter and architect. But the world is no mere picture or model: it is the real time and place of our emergence into life, the stage upon which we dance and play. The world is no more in my mind than my mind is in the world. The world is in us, and with our minds we share in its making.
Philosophy is first an encounter with oneself; the philosopher, in knowing him/herself (i.e., in uniting soul and spirit/anima and animus in and as the Self), then becomes wise, a sage; the sage, in being whole, finally becomes a savior, who loves the world and loves the others who share in its making. Philosophy, then, is not simply the love of wisdom, but the art of becoming whole, of perpetually re-making the world in harmony with others. We are the chorus of creation, and with our singing we spin the stars and stretch space beyond all bounds.
Listen to the words hidden in the wind, and learn the song sung for cosmic ages. Hear the rhyme? Commit it to heart. Now improvise.
What do you think?