“J’ai vu des archipels sidéraux! et des îles
Dont les cieux délirants sont ouverts au vogueur:
- Est-ce en ces nuits sans fond que tu dors et t'exiles,
Million d'oiseaux d'or, ô future Vigueur?”
Le Bateau Ivre, Rimbaud
Spaceship Earth 2020 feels like a vast, shattered ship of fools adrift on the universal, viral flood.
The captains of industry, chasing wealth, lost sight of love, confused the means with the ends and sailed the Titanic to the brink of their flat earth.
And who needs jesters when we have venal clowns posing as leaders, fiddling on the decks, orange faces basking in the glow of the conflagration?
And the rest of us stand aghast, frozen witnesses to a slow motion shipwreck on the poisoned sea of stories.
We are drowning in a crisis not just physical but existential and spiritual – it makes me wonder, what is it that the Master Bug can teach us?
I say just for a moment we let go of our clumsy bodies, our little aches and pains, our personal stories, our precious pet theories and collective narratives - look where they have led us!
Sinking, sinking, letting go of all that ballast, sinking to the vast, spacious rock bottom…
And interrogating the silence, with no attachment to even the possibility of answers…
“What really matters?”
“What is truly important, here and now?”
Or simply asking each of us our own question, the one that arises when we realize this breath might be our last…
…
If an answer comes, we can open fully to it.
If none comes, we can be one with the silence, maybe that is itself an answer…
…
And then feeling the pull of the surface, rising like a bubble of air, one amongst many, all slowly rising, rising, crystalizing shared insights…
And what do we find but a million lightboats: climb aboard, we all have work to do!
Every vessel’s sodden crew sets to, collecting the rains of blessing, planting seed-pearls tugged from the depths, incubating dreams to birth a new world.
A shared purpose and co-created vision, mutual compassion born of suffering, irreverent humour… all these will help us keep an even keel.
A million little arks of light cannot fail. Not all will survive, but if when the floods recede the ones that do can find their common ground, just maybe, there will be hope for the future.
































