May I introduce? My temporary roommate. Was hidden in my salad in the fridge. Have set up a small hibernation domicile for her, off to a new territory soon.
She has a very interesting nature. Appearing curious on the one hand, with her long organic-telescopic eyes that can look into all directions, and very leisurely on the other. Enough time to explore everything on the way, always a space to retreat to. In that space, there is no one to host, no other. When she gets out to travel, what protects her is carried by her soft, flexible bio organism. There is a simple superpower in her existence while roaming through external chaos and transition.
She has quite a fascinating nervous system, and the organization of her ganglion pairs corresponds to a highly developed brain. I always find it interesting to connect to such an alien species (human brains at least tend to synchronize with each other, through mirror neurons, etc.).
Of course, whatever thought and feeling – content – comes to my awareness that I connect to the snail’s consciousness is created by my own brain, this amazing organic processor and creator of information. This alien creature and I don’t share a mutual language, no mutual perception and idea of reality, I don’t think (but how could I really know) that she (or he) has a concept for my existence, I guess there’s no “I” and no “you” in the existence of a snail. We’re likely utterly alien to each other’s realities, but still, our senses and brains somehow process the encounter. I have no idea if she experiences her perception as separated from herself, as “I” as a human do.
But what we obviously share is vibrancy. This aliveness probably needs no awareness, life just does itself. However, awareness gives the experience of life a special quality. When there’s awareness about the preciousness of existence, life is a wonder. Humans share this earthly realm with so many alien species, in which they often have totally lost interest because by naming them they create the illusion of knowledge, and with the naming, they disenchant the unfathomable wonder of life.
Through naming humans produce maps, but then they confuse them with landscapes. Naming creates a lot of things, people, me and you, mine and yours, and the others and borders, separation and affiliation. And because humans are so obsessed with their mental fabrications they became lost and trapped in the realm of maps while holding them for “reality”: they make the landscapes into battlefields of their mental fabrications.
They seek perfection within their mental constructions, but as they are merely a tiny fragment of the great wonder, their preoccupation with them doesn’t allow them to open and surrender to the great unknown mystery around them. Their world is a prison made of names and purpose and affiliations, agenda-driven with tight schedules, in which an encounter with an alien creature like a snail seems useless and can barely reveal its marvel.
I’ll set my temporary roommate soon free, may she radiate her superpower to anyone, able or not able to “see” the great mystery.
