Rarely do we honor the power of destruction. It is in these precious moments of deep shifting, whether by random acts or natural acts or those of our choosing, that opportunity rises to its highest level. Destruction gathers the strength of the community, makes us aware of the preciousness of life itself. The artist of life embraces destruction and carefully destroys what no longer serves intent. For years sitting next to the stream present to life it was easy to find peace and solace. The act of silencing the mind is an act of destruction for it is the mind which demands control, demands outcomes, demands a reflection back upon itself. It is the mind that wants to justify its being. But the mind cannot grasp the beauty of the destroyer. It can only attempt to hold back the water in the damn with a finger. Eventually it grows weak and must submit to the overpowering awareness that it is but a fleeting thing. The mind knows nothing of the reality of being. It can reflect back only its own sense and creation in vacuum of its being. We can create with the mind if it grasps onto the flow of life… the ebb and flow of creation and destruction in a great cosmic dance.
The artist cannot push destruction before its time. The artist cannot push creation before its time. The artist can only be that aware emptiness and wait patiently for the moment that is already there. We can set up our paints, we can dunk our papers, we can turn the wheel of the press, and with all of this push into the world creations that come from the mind. But the true artist is silent and waits for the moment to dance what has never been known into the universe as an act of purest intent. That intent is greater than the artist. Nothing can stop that intent. The artist thus gathers silence and is the vehicle for intent, the empty brush, the water falling from the sky.
Humility and presence bring the artist into a deep and abiding understanding that life is connected. The average person sits and decries such things and prays to the unknown as if it cares about these things. The artist knows that there is nothing to care about or to invest in. Nothing to do. In doing nothing everything gets done as the old masters say. It is in these acts of destruction combined with doing nothing that the will of the universe moves in and of its own accord. When we sit pathetically by and act like destructions matter, we are sitting in opposition to the flow of the universe as it is. When we see into the depths of these destructive moments and know creation is creating life all the more, refreshing her infinite beauty, we are participants in a great dance of being. We know without a shadow of a doubt that we are but wisps of fog on the hill, a small candle in the night, a whirlpool in a great river. The source beyond our comprehension, the results beyond our knowing. It is the rocks themselves that sing when we release and not grab to the hard spots in our lives.