The Life of the Great Human Being
In the beginning was stillness. The earth's darkness, the song of stars, the breathing of the forest.
One evening at the dawn of time, beneath eternity's whisper, a child was born. Not in a cradle of gold, but in the earth's dust and under the vast sky of stars. It was small, fragile, almost helpless - but it carried within itself a spark, a flame, which none of the universe's other beings had carried - Consciousness.
This child was Humanity.
In childhood it lived in the garden, surrounded by animals and plants, as siblings and teachers. It played with fire, with stones, with words. It sang its first songs to the sky and drew its first stories on the walls of cliffs. It laughed when it caught fish in the river. It wept when storms tore down its huts. It feared the night, but found comfort in the myths, the first stories, whispered around the fires.
Everything was play and survival, like a child discovering the world. The child was curious, wondering, without guilt. It loved the world, because it was one with it.
But childhood does not last forever.
Youth broke forth with the storm of forces. The human being began to cultivate the earth, build cities, raise walls and towers. It invented writing and rules, wars and gods. Like a teenager it searched for meaning, for identity, for something greater to submit to - and simultaneously to overcome. It rebelled against its own parents - against nature, against the heavens, against each other. It discovered the power in its hands and became intoxicated by it.
It raised temples to the sky and graves to the earth. It sang hymns to gods and screamed in the darkness of the battlefield. It tasted the power in iron's sword, in the gold of wealth, in the triumph of war. And with the taste came the abuse. Slaves were chained. Empires were built on blood. Religions were born - not only as love's songs, but as chains and swords.
Youth was stormy. Hearts were full of dreams and of darkness. Like a teenager who believes that everything is possible, the human being went to war with itself.
Then it became young and adult.
It threw off the old chains - the authority of kings and priests, the dogmas of old gods.
It wanted to be free.
It wanted to be God itself.
The Renaissance, the Enlightenment, science, the revolutions - all of this was the young adult's attempt to find its own voice, its own way. The Enlightenment was like an intellectual twenty-year-old who believes he has seen the entire truth because he has read a couple of books.
It painted ceilings like heavens and raised libraries like palaces. But at the same time it built factories like prisons, where millions of souls were bound to the wheel of the machine. With steam engines, factories, cities of steel and light, and finally bombs so powerful they could tear the entire earth apart, it shouted out into the cosmos -
"Look how strong I am!"
But like the young man who does not yet understand the weight of his own forces, it burned bridges, created wounds and raised walls it would itself later stumble over. Twice it threw itself into world wars - like a desperate soul that destroys its own home in defiance. Like a young man who drinks himself senseless in the attempt to find himself, the human being created atomic bombs and concentration camps - and almost killed itself in the process.
But it carried on. In spite of everything.
And now this being stands in the middle of life.
The Great Human Being has become middle-aged.
It looks into the mirror and sees both beauty and scars. It sees its own newest creations - the internet, which connects all nerves into one global brain. Artificial intelligence, which thinks faster, broader and deeper than itself.
It sees the emptiness of Space, which calls. But it also feels the emptiness of the heart, where faith and meaning seem to crumble, and the human being becomes a stranger to itself.
The Great Human Being stands in its midlife crisis.
And it asks itself -
"Who am I? Why do I live?
Is there more than power, pleasure and consumption?
Shall I die as an animal, or can I rise as a being of light?"
It feels youth's demons knocking - greed, fear, hubris, self-hatred.
But it also feels childhood's innocent voice, deep inside the soul, whisper -
"Remember, you were born from the dust of stars and carried by the Earth's breath. Remember, you are more than your own shadow. Remember, you are set here to love, to create, to preserve, to lift - and to burn as a light that is not extinguished..."
And now we all stand - each one of us - as cells in this Great Human Being, Humanity - with a choice.
Will we let the old collapse into dust, let our lives end in the smoke of destruction? Or will we step into the wisdom of maturity, and from there into the greatness of old age, where experience transforms into insight, and power into compassion?
If we choose wisdom, old age can become radiant.
We can unite technology and spirituality, learn to travel in the cosmos without losing the earth, love each other without suffocating each other. We can die as beings - but be born as spirit, leave a light in the universe that never goes out.
But if we choose blindness, we will die young - like a dream that rots in its own forgetting. We will disappear, not as heroes, but as shadows that never found their light.
The Great Human Being lives in its most fateful time.
Its next centuries are a few steps in its human life - but those steps will determine whether it is remembered as a being that rose from dust to stars, or as a being that stumbled over its own shadow and fell back into darkness.
It stands at the crossroads.
The stars are silent, but the earth listens.
And what happens from here - that is not written in the stars.
It is being written in us.
❤️🔥🪽
Good Sunday evening, friends.
