I hear the babble of the world

I hear the babble of the world.

I try to discern something, a word, anything, that will indicate that the world is awake. But most of it is asleep or keeping the awoken part very well hidden.

The news is heartbreaking no matter where it comes from. Violence fueled by an obtuse sense of self is on the rise, both in speech and action; while so-called political correctness actually impedes free speech, the one where humor and laughter are allowed. Remember?

Trying to be original has become so common that it is… you guessed it, no longer original.

I do look around. I do observe and I do try to avoid judgement. But at times, I wish there were less brashness and a dash more of elegance — intellectual elegance I mean, the one that opens your mind and makes you want to pursue a conversation. The one of knowledge and simple straightforwardness, not the one of vulgar (as in vulgaris) information and complicated pretension.

The world is in dire need of consciousness, of ideas and concepts beyond the confines of the known, of dreams and of those things that are only accessible to the mind. If only mankind would realize that what he can do is far far greater than what he has made and what he thinks he can do.

There are more than 125 trillion synapses in our cerebral cortex, that is more than there are stars in 1’500 milky ways. And yet, look at the world.

Thank you for reading.

Kenza.

Rumi – Two kinds of intelligence

“There are two kinds of intelligence: one acquired,
as a child in school memorizes facts and concepts
from books and from what the teacher says,
collecting information from the traditional sciences
as well as from the new sciences.

With such intelligence you rise in the world.
You get ranked ahead or behind others
in regard to your competence in retaining
information. You stroll with this intelligence
in and out of fields of knowledge, getting always more
marks on your preserving tablets.

There is another kind of tablet, one
already completed and preserved inside you.
A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshness
in the center of the chest. This other intelligence
does not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid,
and it doesn’t move from outside to inside
through conduits of plumbing-learning.

This second knowing is a fountainhead
from within you, moving out.”

Rumi (XIIIth. C.)

—-

Translation by Coleman Barks.