November 24, 2017•412 words
What comes from the ground is grounding. This much I’ve learned. It’s tethering. The ground produces some of the most addicting products we consume (well, it produces all the products we consume, but). Food, fruits, vegetables, alcohol, marijuana, mushrooms, coffee, tea, tobacco—they all come from the same place, and all seem to share a common property: they are grounding. They bring you into the earth.
But I don’t want to be pulled in. What is the 21st century human being if not a beacon of outward exploration? Of space, of solar, of science. We are departing the ground. We are developing our own world. We desire to go up. Yet Earth tries to bring us down, and uses every trick up its sleeve. We were made to ascend, yet find ourselves overwhelmed by the grounding forces on this planet. The sun, the planets, and the wonders of space levitate our consciousness into higher order, but the ground pulls us back.
I’m untethering. I want to cut the cord. I want to go solar. Pure, raw, unadulterated, scientific energy. Because I know what I want, and where I want to be. Grounded, is not it. I’m of the exploring sort, yet spend no time exploring substantial reality. I get sucked in by grounding energy and make myself a nice comfortable abode. I like it here, I say. This is comfortable. I find some pleasant truths and make some cute progress. But this isn’t it. I’m shackled. I feel it, but ignore it. I’m grounded by reality's loop which I’ve mistaken for my life.
Then there is solar energy—the purest form of sustenance mankind has ever known. Solar invigorates. Solar cleanses. Solar challenges. Solar comes from above. It’s not grounding, like everything else we know. Solar is powerful. It’s the unadulterated human being. The conquerer of worlds. Who has heard of a rooted tree taking substantial claim to the outside world? Grounding sources of energy seem to want to make you part of the ground. Solar energy guides you up and away, like a tree extending its branches to meet the sun.
Ground energy is all I know. And I think I’ve seen enough. My compass is recalibrating. And it’s pointing upwards. I check my gauges. My escape velocity is just enough. My fuel is running low but is plenty to get where I’m going.
Of the ground, one falls prey to being coiled and tethered. Of the sun, of space, is pure infinity.