Philosophically Sane

Looking out the window I notice the Harvest Moon as it makes its smooth decent into the western sky. And in doing so appearing as though it had been primed for a party, one in which the color scheme required its normal clear bulb to be replaced with a brilliant orange one instead.

As I watch the moon do what it has done since its creation, I think of all those before me that have watched as it traveled through the sky. Some of those used it for the illumination it offered as it dusted its glow across a crop eager to be plucked from the ground. Others, like me, merely gazed at its beauty and contemplated the seasonal signal it provided. Like a traffic light switching from green to yellow, the Harvest Moon reminds us that we need to slow down and prepare.

The preparation required years ago is monumentally different than it is today, and yet nature knows only to warn us in the same manner it has always used. The plants and animals listen to these signals with natural ease. They know it will soon be a time of rest - a time to draw in their resources and prepare for a time that seems, according to all outward appearances, dormant. Unlike humans - plants and animals live for the sake of living. They feel no need to challenge this natural order. They feel no need to act in any way other than what nature has intended. They know they aren’t being lazy. They feel no need to fit into a mold clearly not shaped for them; instead they do what feels right. I envy them in this regard. As they know winter is a time that is dormant only on the outside. The inner core of the plants, the souls of the animals are all busy replenishing and preparing for spring.

Mankind doesn’t use the dormancy of winter in the same way. It use to, and yet now we are forced to wear blinders to all the signals that advise us to slow down. The requirements of life push us to go against nature, and nature’s instructions. Once the days grow shorter, our bodies beg for more sleep. In response, many of us set our alarms earlier, allowing time for a second or third cup of coffee, noticing that it is near impossible to pop our minds out of its foggy slumber.

We want to eat more too, as we should. Except once spring rolls around, we, unlike all of the other creatures, aren’t required to burn off the winter fluff that previously helped keep us warm. So, while the blustery winds and snow beat against our darkened windows, we robotically chew our salads and try to refrain from eating too many carbs. It goes against our natural proclivity, but our minds remind us that we no longer walk the freshly turned fields dropping seeds from our hands once spring arrives. Instead, our movements are only those taking us to our next opportunity in which to sit. I have to believe that if our forefathers could watch us as we run in place, or run around the block (all of this activity done solely to burn calories), they would be quick to point out our flawed system. But it is the system we are immersed in, and there is no turning back.

I love the advancement of technology and all that it has provided. But at times like these, I feel the discord with nature. During this transitional time of year when the natural desire of my being is to eat well, rest well and ponder only privately held, inward thoughts, I feel this discord, and it clashes against my core. I would rather succumb to nature, and in doing so find harmony with it instead of push against it.

Sane