Surrendering To Nature

I've noticed that we've lost touch with the primeval pact we made with Nature long ago, on rustic plains wider and more quixotic than cramped city streets, on erstwhile lands not yet maimed by the churning jaws of industry. Now we're relentlessly distracted by the technological forces we use and, in turn, are used by. Texting on cellular phones has replaced intimate conversations by forests or grottoes or luxuriant gardens. Hand-held entertainment devices have replaced our natural senses (this means we can withdraw into a world of artificial pleasures found in synthetic machines). This is disconcerting. It is disconcerting because these man-made devices pull us away from the cosmic and geological cycles that have always sustained us. They pull us into a mental realm of estranged abstractions and transient pleasures. Once we're flies trapped in the synthetic spider's web, we start to complain about Nature for days and days, even years and years. We start to see her as a feral, rapacious beast that needs to be pacified so we can sleep at night. The winds howl, the tempests rage on, the sweltering sun shines, the flowers blossom...and yet we remain detached from it all, desensitized to the touch of the green and lush hand which has opulently constructed us out of its own teleological imagination. Of course, the only way out of this technological malaise is surrender. We must surrender to what has guided us this far. The perfectly timed cosmic and geological cycles are indeed here for us, and inside our hearts the timeless time keeper lurks.

The fruits of anahata are nectar-infused treasures of immortality.