Walking in darkness down a path, you
come to a dead end. This thicket is too thick. There is no way
through.
Reluctantly, you turn back.
You choose a different path, only to
achieve the same end; but this time when you turn back, you see a
side path, and take that. Again, another dead end.
You try again, and again, until you no
longer remember how you got here.
Eventually, you find a path with many
thorns at the end, but beyond it you see fire. The air is beginning
to chill, and you desperately want the warmth and safety of that
fire...
Without thinking, without hesitation,
you grasp at the thorns, only to find your fingers scratched. This
won't do! You'll never break through that way! After a moment of
cautious consideration, you think you have a solution.
So, you pull your sleeves over your
hands to form makeshift gloves, the thorns dig into the sleeves, but
not as much, and don't quite sting like before. You worry, briefly,
about your shirt or sweater,
but you aren't exactly sure what plant
this is, and just hope it isn't stinging nettle.
You eventually break through, and add
some wood from a nearby pile to the fire. The warmth is soothing, and
you know the flames will keep critters at bay. The fire pit is well
made, and there is a source of water nearby. Eventually, you drift
off into an exhausted sleep.
In the morning, you wake a bit sore,
but more clear headed, and better able to see in the thin early
light. You go to examine the thorns you broke through, and discover,
with relief and a laugh, that they were not the dreaded stinging
nettles, but blackberries. There aren't many left in the early autumn
chill, but you pick some of what's left, and begin your journey home.
~*~*~*~*~*~
This is the sort of situation in which
the fires of Kenaz light our way. Kenaz isn't so much about being
inspired by the possibilities like Ansuz,so much as clawing one's way
to discovery because one must. Some of what we make, like art, or
fine cuisine, we do for its own sake, but other times it's do or die:
Learn to make fire or freeze. Learn to preserve food or starve,.
Learn how to treat the illness, or watch the village population drop.
Learn to work sustainably with the environment, or watch the streets
flood and the lakes go dry.
Sometimes we don't learn because we
*want* to, but because we *have* to – and we pray it isn't too
late. (But then, even if it is, if anyone survives, that hard won
knowledge, too, is part of what Kenaz speaks of.) A real Fact in life
is true, whether or not one wants it to be so. Accepting this allows
one to prepare for potential danger instead of denying it, and, with
others, become a sort of “herd immunity” of knowledge – whether
literally, in the case of the recent ridiculousness over vaccines, or
metaphorically, in the case of those who, from one “side” or the
“other,” deny one finding of science or another for political
gain.
To move from mere survival to thriving,
one must find a way to solve problems at the first sign, and this is
often a process of trial and error. No one human can do this for
everything within their lifetime, and so it benefits us to find
people we trust to know what they're talking about – whether or not
we like them personally – and learn from and benefit from one
another's findings. A dozen flames burn brighter than one. Perhaps,
in giving away some of what you know, the return will be someone else
making a discovery you could not have, but which would likewise not
have been possible without you.
Like proverbial enlightenment or
gnosis, the trick is, there is no final destination, only the
journey. The moment you believe you have “arrived” is merely the
moment you set your things down and refused to budge – but others
around you will still be walking, whether or not you do. Needing rest
is one thing, stubbornness another.
Such is the nature of discovery and
evolution alike.
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