But the opposite, the yang to the yin, is ever present too. The veil of Maya can be swept aside, the beauty, the crack and fire of delight, the eternal newness of seeing can open like an expanse before us at any time, in any place. Naivety of spirit is the hope that drives evolution, we are temporal creatures, made of and created in time. It may be eternally recurrent, we may be without linear direction but within, time is the sea, upon which we rest. We can choose contemplation, stasis, pain or be borne in directions we neither desire nor command but every now and then the wind picks up and we set sail once more into the sparkling void, the empty fullness of the uncreated universe.
We are able sometimes too, to make our futures, make our dreams and visions appear before us, concrete and virtual, plastic and motionless. These islands of respite in the oceans of meaninglessness are the art and science of being human. Glory in the sun, glory in the depth and timeless spaces of consciousness, for we are human, we are the living world, we are existence.