Earthen Vessel
Who am I?
Breath captured
in an earthen vessel
Spirit wedded
to primeval soil
Imperfect Mirror of
essential Being
Wrapped in the terrestrial
winding-sheet
of Human clay
Simple creatures, perhaps, we humans–but is there not a mote, a speck, a spark in us of something grander than what we usually appear? Some bit of wonder that belies the humble forms of mortality and speaks of the transcendent? The perpetual questions that pull at us when we regard an existential view must at least spring from something larger than the plain facts of our selves . . . what can it all mean?
I certainly have no expectation of answering any such things, or even approaching their periphery, in my life, but like generations before me, still feel compelled to ask. That in itself is an intrigue, an oddity of being what we so proudly name Homo sapiens. Does this merely prove that we are so self-centered and hubristic that we assume importance in our existence that no other species dares–or bothers–to impute? It may. The idea of a dog, a pig, a horse or elephant, no matter how intelligent it is, bothering to sit around and study itself and its centrality in the universe so intently is amusing but ultimately quite ridiculous; it wouldn’t in fact be an utter shock to discover that they think the same of us, if they could be troubled to notice it at all.
Most particularly I hope that there is much that is far greater than we are, knowing how puny and foolish and improbable and fallible we tend to be even at our finest times. It’s highly reassuring to me that, when I’ve done my puzzling and my contemplation of my place in space, my purpose in appearing here on earth, it’s still quite insignificant; that a real and precious Otherness is more than all of us, more than enough to fill the emptiness of space whether we little creatures stay or grow or cease to exist. This is comfort enough that I can go to sleep at night, content that I am not the sun or the source of anything necessary, that all will go on long, long, long after I have returned to shimmering dust.
Art-Colored Glasses 
No wonder so many people answer “a dog” when asked “what would you like to come back as in your next life?” As you so eloquently stated, if we were to all become dogs, then perhaps we could abandon this relentless search for meaning, and we could simply find a cool spot on the floor where the sunlight warms the tiles, and dream of chasing stuffed toys and nibbling on cookies, as we look forward to snuggling in bed every night with our humans. No more deep questions of the universe. Just pleasant puppy dreams.
And don’t forget the running around aimlessly in tall grass! 🙂
Beautifully written! I hope all seven billion people on this globe give or take the few that run things realize they are needed. If they ALL dropped dead tomorrow what would the few do. No one to make rules for, boss around, and so WE must stick around to make them feel important!!!!!!!!! I hope you smile because that is what I intended!
Grinning from ear to ear. I wrote a poem about how much we Lesser Beings are depended upon by the greats, and if I can ever dig it up again I’ll post it for you!
Hey I would love to read that!!! Thanks for getting back to me!
The relentless pursuit of happiness.. c
I hope I’m smart enough to stop and let happiness catch *me*. 🙂
Thank you for all of the happiness you share!
K
Hmmmm…. I love that we are shimmering dust:) xo Smidge
Shimmering *and* glimmering. 🙂
xoxo
I don’t think you’re at all alone in your hope that there is something beyond and greater than all of us. Ironic that, next to being born, Life’s biggest surprise comes at its very end.
Isn’t it nice to know that there might be some good dessert to come at the end, even if we’ve feasted all our living days!
I believe we are just a little pin-prick in the big picture.
🙂 Mandy
Yes, and it makes me curious about all of the Other goodies out there! 🙂
Kath
Oh yes, absolutely! 🙂
The eternal questions about life and human life in particular. We’re both blessed and cursed with intelligence I guess.
Well said.
perhaps it is all our golden web-spun thoughts that turn to shimmering dust in the end, and we are free to BE! lovely post Katherine.
What a marvelous thought . . .
🙂
xoxo
Beautiful reflection, Kathryn, on our place in the scheme of things…the last paragraph is excellent! I tweeted this.
Thank you, my dearest! How kind of you.
I am going to admit to you that I read this a full three times and, at the moment, am so weary that I didn’t absorb one single word. I know it is time to stop for the night and take care of my own business right now.
But! Knowing you, it is full of that wisdom that we have all come to expect from you – and no, I am not being facetious when I say that! I am sorry that I am unable to do justice to your wonderful writing tonight, Kathryn.
I hope you’ve begun to catch up on that much-needed sleep, Cyndi–but in the meantime, I sympathize! I do know the frustration of trying to make sense when there’s no sense left to do it with! Hugs.
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