Mind seeds

I sit here on this dark day after reading that article on Zen and composting and I think of why it is that I am enamored with the natural processes that surround me every day. I wonder at the way the universe collides with itself to create a perfect harmony of enzymatic reactions and rainbows of fungal spores. I wonder how we as humans look at each other and speak our words and communicate somehow. I wonder how coffee can taste so good somedays, yet another example of natural perfection, fermented beans roasted and brewed with crystal pure water. Somedays it shines, somedays it seems so dull.

I think of what I have done this summer and what I will do and where I am going and what I really think I am doing on this earth, in this universe. Am I really here to figure out how to be comfortable or am I here to figure out how to communicate with you, with a crooked cucumber, with a maple tree, or with that otter? Trying to decipher the vibrations between what I perceive as myself and what I perceive as something else. Trying to be a cosmic musician, a wordly artist.

When the day tires me out it is so hard to feel like that matters, that anything so esoteric has any validity. But how does it not? How can we just go blindly through the motions to arrive at somewhere so comfortable only to eventually die? Death is the ultimate teacher to us. It reminds us that nothing we possibly can do has any permanance. That doesn't mean that there is no point to anything, only that the point exist only in the present. Nothing stays the same for long. Nothing has any reality based architecture. We live in dreams and rivers, rainbows of fungal spores and mind seeds sprouting in black earth. And someday we will go to seed and spread ourselves infinitely or become mulch. Either way, it has meaning.