Karma VI
The question about the impetus for the whirlwinds of karma is a question about the meaning of karma itself. Ever since, I have tried to imagine what was actually meant or expected by this question? By asking myself about this ever new perspectives on that subject are showing up. In the media, the word karma usually appears in the context of the play of fate, destiny, or often in connection with what might happen after bodily death—afterlife and rebirth. And nowadays, karma somehow sounds more reasonable and scientific than “God” or “gods” or “divine plan” or “absurd” or “fundamental goodness” or “evil” or “the fall off from grace.”
Let me repeat: karma originally, in Sanskrit—the ancient, sophisticated, and profound language of the wise Indians or Persians—actually means deed, action, effect, and counter-effect. But what is the meaning of it? Did God the creator know of it? Where does it come from? And is the opposite: rest? Immobility? Silence? Non-existence maybe even bliss?
Three major strands occur to me when exploring being, meaning, and life:
Some assume that the origin and beginning of everything was matter. According to this view, a vast amount of stuff simply floated through a universe. Probably, there was not even time yet. But in this worldview, there was already movement. Stuff moved, even if today scientists mostly reject the idea of an initial big bang. At some point in one of those material universes – universes of matter – the question arose purely by chance: “What’s going on here?” or just “Whoops?” And thus, consciousness was born. That was the beginning of consciousness. Or maybe: “What am I?” or “What is this? Let us call it for now: feeling?” or “Being! That’s it! I am!” The key point of strand one is that consciousness was a random product of matter, and once it started, karma made it unstoppable or irreversible. Consciousness has been proliferating ever since. Perhaps through meditation—calm, radiant resting—we may learn to observe the proliferation process more objectively and perhaps even learn to regulate it.
Another perspective is that matter is a random product of consciousness. So, the opposite. There is consciousness—originally beyond any meaning—vast and open and simply there. But then, somewhere, something was grasped by chance. Grasping and questioning arose: “What is this?” The first words and logics appeared. At first there was an area without form, but as proliferation and expansion went on, grasping led to hardening and, gradually, matter—the product of grasping—formed, and eventually form and shape arose as they were looked for and expected. There was grasping, attempts to seize, first with words, then logic, then explanations, and what was grasped gradually took the form of matter. It became more concrete, solid, and hard, addicted to itself and proliferating. Behind this lies a desire to grasp, to make firm, a lust for clarity and distinctness, originated by fear. One of the most exciting questions, to which I have no real answer is about fear? Why did it happen at all for the first time? This fear seams to be the driving force. I am quite sure fear also is the driving force of karma. Possibly, even the desire for clarity itself originally stems from that primal fear?
Another perspective would be that being, meaning, and life are based on something like a divine plan. Or happy, formless goddesses and gods, and all was well, until one of the goddesses became afraid and infected the others with it. This led to the first forms of greed, jealousy, then hate, bringing darkness and stupidity. The goddesses and gods who were not infected by fear became warriors—that is, they discovered fearlessness—and the others quarreled, took on diverse forms, became ever more massive, stubborn, grasping, and created the world in which we live now and feel and imprint. But the deep nature even of these cowards is joy—or let’s simply call it fundamental goodness. In similar fashion, the narrative goes that the goddesses and demigods quarreled, looking for entertainement they became more and more wild. Over several orgies they changed into semigods, and then they roughened even further to become ordinary humans. So perhaps we are all fallen angels? I cannot really deny that.
In all three perspectives, karma—every action has a consequence, not only physically but also communicatively and energetically. Let’s call the driving force or this inexorable law karma. So: every movement, action, thought, or sense-experience triggers a counter-movement or encounters other movements, thoughts, or events, and thus ever more movements and counter-movements, whirlwinds, forces and opposing forces, wishes, hopes, and vanities arise—and over billions of years, whole universes of planes, powers, and objects come into being.
And theoretically, it could suddenly and randomly—just like that—happen that an frying pan manifests itself somewhere in space and sails past stunned astronauts down to earth. But that would be very far-fetched, while the patterns of development of objects and beings are actually considered to be quite well understood. The astronauts, out of fear of the incomprehensible, would surely try to explain what they saw: “Typical! The Russians must have lost that!”
The desire for stability and comprehensibility—or simply fear—prevents us from accepting that a frying pan could manifest itself—just like that. As we mature, each person develops a worldview, giving security and comfort, creating room for sleepiness. The regular flashes of bliss, goodness, sadness, and vastness are enjoyed and quickly let go again, because we lazily and cowardly know that otherwise we had to keep getting up into some bright, extremely direct, chilly feeling of insecurity. We’d have to become brave, fearless, valiant warriors.
At the moment, everyone thinks they understand what’s possible and what is impossible. Nowadays, even a ten-year-old girl believes she can explain what exists and what doesn’t, what works and what doesn’t, and copies her parents in doing so. Out of fear of bottomlessness, we unconsciously adjust everything that seems not to make sense—for example, a frying pan that simply manifests. “A frying pan cannot just manifest! That’s for sure!!” “That’s impossible! I don’t understand it, so it can’t be! So it must have been the Russians!”
So much for Karma VI.
Yours, Winfried the Quijote
