Sunday, January 21, 2024

AN IMPOSSIBLE BEAUTY: REFLECTIONS AT 60 by Devi Nina Bingham


An Impossible Beauty

Why do I do this to myself-celebrate my birth. Should I be proud that I am alive? What have I given humanity that will last 100 years after I am gone? And in 1,000 years, nobody will remember a stitch about me, or my "important" books, or academic degrees. Then they, and I, will be less consequential than a blade of grass. Why then do I trouble myself to remember my birth?

Each of us are alone on a lonely planet hanging in an endlessly expanding universe. Someday, even the Milky way in which the earth rests will become inconsequential, not marveled at or spoken of in awe. Eventually, even the star systems end. A star who burnt itself out sings the loudest and shines the brightest. I am only trying to shine like that star.

But who am I shining for? Does a star shine so others notice, or does it simply exist, and in its beingness, shines? Do I shine so others will notice, or can I, like the animals and trees, simply be unhindered and natural so that I might walk by my own light? If the sun shined for my acknowledgement, I would grow lackluster about its glory because even a glorious thing can become tiresome, forgotten, and left behind. It therefore shines to be its own source of warmth and light.

Why is it so difficult to exist free of other's approval and opinions? Why do I hamper my natural glory so others can feel comfortable with me, or so I don't appear to be "too much" or "not enough?" Why do I depend upon someone else to make me feel happy, excited, noticed; to feel alive? Nature does not operate this way. Why then, should I?

It is because the human animal feels so deeply and suffers so greatly. The sun doesn't weep when I turn away and ignore its shine. Why should I crumble when others have taken the party away? But more than any animal or tree could, we suffer aloneness, jealousy, abandonment; many troubling emotions beset us. Why were we given this colossal capacity to feel-a tidal wave of emotions? Must I feel every shade of cold and every chill of grey?

But do animals create? I mean, do they express themselves artistically, or don't they simply live a patterned and predictable existence? The living things were given life; locomotion, thought, feeling, but so elementary by comparison. It is this: without the ability to experience disturbing and strong emotion, we could not bring forth beauty. For it is rain that creates the rainbow. It is the artist's melancholy which forces her to sing. She composes music because of torrents of rivers rushing through her and driving her to it. And from the pain and helplessness comes a fresh, new song, a representation of life that is wholly original and moving. The painting, the sculpture, the poem-art bursts forth and blooms from the dark void. From the wounds of the wreckage is born an impossible beauty. All the wrongs, mistakes, longings, and regrets we call a life add up to produce a completely original treasure.

To delight in an opera so expansive-is it worth it? To behold the Mona Lisa's demure smile-is it worth it? To thrill with chills and ecstasy at a touch-is it worth it? Someone seems to think so, or we wouldn't be here; we would have offed ourselves a long time ago. You and I are planted here to shed every teardrop and to laugh with the angels. To make chaos, and to birth meaning from chaos. We are here not to hide from heartbreak, but to fully imbibe it so we can sing what has never been sung.

We can hide for a time; even the sun is eclipsed. Even the moon hides half of its face. But damp your light long enough and see happens. The devil will creep into your bones and begin to feast on them. Your own body will turn against you until you cry out like the stones cried at Jesus' feet: "Have mercy on me!" And that song is the most powerful of them all. It calls the miracles down until they encircle you, holding you fast and tight. They are the magic words that call the medicine man. And before the sun sets you will, perhaps with trembling hands, respond to that which has been calling your name. This is the swift river of life-not to be denied, not to be controlled. Be moved by unspoken voices. Go where your soul is leading.