An appeal to Reason:discarding superstition.lady1.jpg

The cliché say : we’re all looking for something eh?Stretching for knowledge,for answers…just…out of reach.Well,whats a cliché but a truth we’ve become bored with?But as you stretch,and your balance wavers,it’s easy to grab the nearest handhold…steady yourself for the ascent ahead.But then you find a little ledge,scared to go higher.It’s sheltered from the wind,there are insects to eat.Huddle up,cuddled by a secret.The climb up is too far,too dangerous,might not make it…and what the hell is up there!Don’t want to be left against the cold wall and lose your footing.

But then you think of those who’ve climbed before.Those brave souls who got us this high.The thinkers who continued to think,and to learn.They scoped the rocks,noted the nooks,quantified the crannies.They have hewn a stair.But you don’t want to climb.Slide back down,to the ground,were “ye gods” are found.It’s scary up there,warm cheek against chilled granite.The keen air of reality ruffling your hair like a bully.The unknown.Better to be down below,refusing to grow,feel the old moss.Calling for daddy.

Bye!I’m off!I kick away from the ground with a single-hand-slap…clapped onto a brown round mound.With a one-armed heave,and some height achieved, I leap athletically from handhold to ledge.I stretch ever higher,and aesthetically wedge a toe to provide some reprieve. I find finger-wide crevice-guides,dusty…the ‘road less traveled by’,I hope it makes all the difference.Here is a piton that Lucretius left:I fasten a string with a smile,Theseus style.Up and up,past Socrates Johnson,Plato and Khayyam and look…here is a rope left by Baruch.(Not the book of the tribal bible but Spinoza,in case that throws you)

Onwards I scramble,a branch of Newton’s bramble tree lends appreciated purchase,a tiny fruit shaken loose falls into the dark ‘below’ to shed its juice.Chiseled words in the stone read “Charlie D was here”.Up Russell’s ladder to Einsteins way station.Much sustenance has been left here.I eat all I can,but there’s some left over.I continue my ascent with renewed vigour and spot other climbers in the distance up ahead.I only hope I can reach them.Still,the terrain is kinder up here,the sunlight shines,and I find that even though I might never reach the summit…I pity those left below.Those that lacked the wit and bravery to climb,and progress.And learn.

[foto:Recoleta,Buenos Aires]


~ by Sixto on February 5, 2008.

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