Philosophies of the Wolf

Once upon a time I met a man, a most spectacular specimen, with a mind as quicksilver and sharp as anybody’s, and we got to talking about philosophy, about truth and belief, what is real and what is merely perception. It was a provocative conversation to all extents of the imagination, and I must admit, perhaps foolishly in so public a forum as this, that the truest way to my heart is kindness and depth, and let me tell you, this man had both.

Then again, such sincerity is hard to feign, so perhaps it’s not so foolishly shared.

Regardless, such a deep conversation got me thinking, what is my personal philosophy? Do I even have one? And after some consideration, or years of consideration if you’d rather go back to when I first began to formulate the postulates of my intensities, I decided I do have a personal requiem of philosophies that I stand by. They are tenets and towers, facsimiles of faith and fiction, the philosophy of the wolf himself.

Prima Maxima Prōpositio
The world is as we make it.

This is a simple enough philosophy, I think: If we think it, it is. Descartes would approve. My point in saying this is that I believe it is truly so. I think what we do, how we think, and especially how we act shape the world. Creation is not a limited act, once done and forever finished. No, creation is a continuum, constantly happening all around us, the world reborn every moment as we wish it to be, as we move our hands through the primordial mist in that split moment when the world is undone, shaping it as we see fit, shaping it with actions and words.

It’s proven if you smile, you feel happy. If the mere act can lead to the emotion, is that not creating an emotion from nothing? If you drop the pretense of frustration and sympathy, the facade of sorrow and sadness, and choose–consciously–to make an effort at smiling, to sway yourself into happiness, you have changed the world.

Since it’s also proven that what we see affects how we feel, that simply seeing an action performed fires the same nerve clusters in our brains as if performing those actions ourselves, if you smile and become happy and this change is witnessed, this change will spread. Once there are two people smiling, two more can be touched, and then four more, and eight more, sixteen more, thirty-two more–the change is exponential and endless.

All because of a simple decision to smile.

This assertation, however, comes coupled with a fatal flaw, as my new friend informed me: If the world is as we make of it, what of universal truth? Is there such a thing? And even more so, how could there not be?

The question then becomes how we define a universal truth. Is someone universally beautiful? Is art universally good or bad? Is water universally wet? This itself is a topic for a collection of textbooks and tomes, but in my opinion, what I shall treat as a universal truth is the realm of science. Gravity is a universal truth. The electroweak force is a universal truth. Chemistry, math, biology–those things that cannot deceive are universal.

And certainly if I decide I’m unaffected by gravity I’d still fall, wouldn’t I? I would. Anyone would. Gravity is so true to existence that it cannot simply be shut off. But then, you ask, isn’t my philosophy flawed? Is the world not at all what we make of it?

I believe that we, humans, take universal truths for granted. From the moment we’re conceived, we feel the effects of gravity as our mothers or incubation tubes turn around us and yet we sink in the same direction always. Once free to the world, we roll over, stand, crawl, fall, all to the end that gravity has given us. By the time we’re old enough to think, to decide we don’t like gravity, to choose to disregard it altogether, no amount of conscious thought will do a damn thing because it has become so unconsciously ingrained within us. It’s a part of our composition, a part of our physiology even. At that point it can no longer be denied. It has become infallible.

Suppose, for the sake of rhetoric, that a child is raised from conception through the age of full thinking in conditions comparable to zero-gravity, so far out into the expanse of space that the effects of all massive entities and dark matter are too minimal to be detected even by highly calibrated machines. To this person, gravity would not exist. To this person, gravity is as farfetched as fairy tales. If then placed into the field of some such massive planet, even sacrificed to live on its surface, would this person fall at all?

Would he?

Did you know that muscles atrophy in space, that it’s the force of gravity acting upon us that allows us to strengthen and condition our bodies? So ingrained, I said, so much a part of who we are without knowing it…. Completely taken for granted.

And what, then, of personal truths? I don’t disregard them. Personal truths abound, perhaps even more numerous than universal truths, for every souled being possesses their own systems of doctrines and dogmas, don’t they? To one man God is Jesus, to another Allah, to another, God is actually Goddess. Does the truth of one invalidate the other? Certainly not. Does the presence of a universal truth invalidate a personal one? Not necessarily.

Take global warming. I’ll try not to rant, but hear me out nonetheless. Any respectable scientist knows that global warming, climate change, whatever nomenclature you prefer to use, is a proven fact, it certainly exists. It can be measured and charted and the disastrous effects can be forecast and plotted. But there are still many people who don’t even know of it, whose lack of knowledge allows their personal truths to fill the gaps of understanding that (an unknown) universal truth has not filled, and just as many who know of it and who still, in the face of evidence, insist upon denying it. The same can be said of the Holocaust. There’s no sane being on earth who’d say it never happened, and yet there are many who genuinely believe it never occurred.

Just as we can take universal truth for granted, we can take personal truths blindly and believe them universal, for from our own perspective, there’s no contest. They are what we know. They are the world as we’ve made it.

The world is as we make it. You cannot deny it. And should you try, what will you have accomplished? You will have simply asserted a personal truth so foolheartedly that you’ve blinded yourself to the universal truth that abounds before you, that speaks straight to you, that can change the world if you’d will it into being.

Secunda Maxima Prōpositio
Everything is infinite.

Our individual potential is more than we will ever know and more than most of us will ever realize. Just as we have allowed personal truth to take precedence over provable universal truths, the accepted truth of the populace can seem universal as we grow into its constructs, but in effect is actually only a construct of our minds.

I believe that we all have limitless power and capabilities, but that the human psyche is conditioned with limits–bed before nine, work during the day, roads to follow and only follow those–that we forget how infinite everything truly is. The universe is boundless. The only end in sight is that end so far away that its light is only just now reaching us. Beyond that, it is unknown. Beyond that, it goes on forever more.

In a way, this is merely a consequence of the first maxim, an indication or a reminder of one of those universal truths we have ignored. In a way, it forms a prelude to the third maxim, but in a better way, it really isn’t either.

It’s easy to say our potential is limitless because we believe it, but it’s another to say our potential is limitless because it truly is. I believe in the concept of b’tzelem elohim, “in the image of God.” I’ve heard many interpretations of this–that God must look human, that it’s an admonition to act Godly, that like God we’ve been given the power to create and destroy–but perhaps it’s merely a statement of infinitude.

If creation is constant, if like little gods we can change the world to our bidding, and if the world is infinite as we believe, then by simple logical extension, those that can craft infinity are themselves infinite.

Please ponder.

Think of a challenge you face, of an end you have not yet met. Is there something you can change within yourself to bring it within your reach? Is there something beyond yourself you can influence to bring it even closer? I’m certain with enough introspection and intention, everything is within reach.

The curious thing about infinity is that a fraction of infinity is itself infinite. If we are but a small miniscule part of this infinite world, then aren’t we infinite in our own right?

Tertia Maxima Prōpositio
Alpha: Everything happens for a reason.

It evolves naturally from the idea of the world being under our control and of the world being infinite that there is a cause for everything under the sun, and beyond it as well, to do away with the small-scale implications of a trite saying. If someone wished for good weather, and the thought spread, good weather will have come. If someone was in a car accident, it was because someone at some point made a conscious decision that led to it happening.

To trace causes and effects to the first would be impossible, however, because every individual ever living has been waging war against the rest of the world for the direction in which it should proceed. This cosmic clash of willpower is endless, perpetual, a constant tug-of-war of my mind against yours against everyone else’s.

It seems dismal, doesn’t it? But in reality, it isn’t.

You see, just as I mentioned the reason a conscious decision to no longer abide by gravity would not change how it affects us because we accept its force over us unconsciously, we all posses a great wealth of unconscious drive and determination that shapes the world without our realizing it. How many times have we experienced small miracles, when in our times of most need the most astounding coincidences have allowed everything to fall into place?

I can speak of many off the top of my head, of how I came to have my Reiki II class, how I fell in love with math, how my sister learned she had diabetes, how I met all my major loves and each of my most fantastic friends. Where a need is, the subconscious bleeds, and from this blood, the world is bent. What we need is within all of us, and that knowledge is only hidden when we’re not inclined enough to find it.

How many times has it seemed as if everything in the world were against you, and yet when you finally succumbed to the forces swelling around you and got swept away into a mess and a mighty revelation, you’ve found it’s all turned out exactly as it was meant to be? That’s because it turned out exactly as you wanted it to.

Externally, we form truths about ourselves that are not always reflective of the truth we know internally. However, the internal soul is more capable than our external mind, for the world inside does not know the limits of our psyche, those constraints we have wrongfully built around ourselves. By separating ourselves so fully from our inner identities, we have empowered them to act of their own accord, given them the power over us to bend and reshape the world we live in for what we need without ever knowing we need it. We have given them the power to overpower us, and no matter how much we might struggle against them, they will always win.

The greatest revelation comes from the greatest release. It’s why we clear our minds to meditate. It’s why we wake to dreams of prophecy. It’s why clarity comes from sleep.

Tertia Maxima Prōpositio
Omega: In the end everything is how it’s meant to be.

Of course, if the world is what we make of it, and if everything is infinite, and if we subconsciously bend the world to address our needs, in the end everything must be exactly as it’s meant to be. A friend of mine had the perfect forum signature saying this: “If it’s not happy, it’s not the end.”

No matter how much we might struggle against ourselves, what we need will only come when we release those struggles and accept what the universe is giving us, accept openly what we’ve called to ourselves.

Long ago, in talking with my closest friend, I told her that it’s when we’re falling through darkness that we need to let go the most, but it’s when we need release the most that we hold the tightest, afraid of holding onto nothing. There is but one human emotion, only one that is borne from this realization, that growth and help and ascension only come from total and utter release and emptiness: Fear. All the rest are reflections of this one.

You might argue that happiness is an extra emotion, but happiness is merely the ignorance of fear. And love? The alleviation of it. But the truth is, in so many colors that fear appears to us, it is the only barrier to letting go. It is the fear of loss, of vulnerability, of pain that protects us from becoming whole beings. It is this fear that prevents us from moving on, from becoming everything we can ever dream to become.

I loved a man. When he loved me no longer I felt my world had ended. I feared never having again what he had given me. I feared that all the world had stopped because this one thing had fallen through. Many moons later, when finally the pain had so been dulled that it took little effort to release it, I found my heart regrown and myself strengthened and impervious. I had never lost what we had shared; it had only become a deeper part of me. And I realized, to my greatest disgust and my greatest amazement, that for all the reasons I had loved him and wished him to be a part of me, there were just as many reasons why I had learned we should never be together. Something beneath the physicality of infatuation, beneath the adrenalin and endorphins, something inside me had stirred the wrong way. What I needed was not in him. Only in releasing that love had I learned this lesson.

I moved on. The world continued to shape itself around me, and I had learned a little something. That for although sometimes everything seems like chaos, it is only a perversion of the perfect order underneath.

The world is as we make it. We are infinite. And in the end, everything is perfect.

This is my philosophy. The philosophies of the wolf.


One thought on “Philosophies of the Wolf

  1. In this e-mail that I’ve been writing for ages (moments of eternity have been intervals *wink wink*), much of this actually comes up. Which is great. I’d then like to only point out for the moment that indeed our world is so limited in its potential to change only because our minds are so limited, their ideas so concrete.

    Take LSD: it removes natural barriers (filters, even) that our brain _has_ to impose on us (for evolutionary reasons; imagine seeing five dimensions when only three dimensions in any way would benefit your survival) and every user, universally, speaks of having seen things as if perception of the world before was but stained glass. The unity of all (we are infinite and one and the same, much like you say), the ubiquity and control of our personal perception in regards to space, time and even existence itself. One trip can have such lasting psychoemotive effects a person can completely change from that point forward. No wonder it’s one of my favorite topics.

    For your own amusement (and perhaps education) find and read the wikipedia articles “Psychedelic Experience,” “Ego death” as well as this one:

    This set of ideas has been a great part of my personal development. This conjecture really sums up a lot of it well:

    “Each person is at each moment capable of remembering all that has ever happened to him and of perceiving everything that is happening everywhere in the universe. The function of the brain and nervous system is to protect us from being overwhelmed and confused by this mass of largely useless and irrelevant knowledge, by shutting out most of what we should otherwise perceive or remember at any moment, and leaving only that very small and special selection which is likely to be practically useful. According to such a theory, each one of us is potentially Mind at Large.”

    Giving these things, there are few who would not be considered spiritual after ‘seeing’. Let’s just say there’s a reason these things are called “entheogens.”

    Note: I did see a typographic error somewhere in there, but I got extremely enthusiastic when I realized what this was going to be about, and so you must forgive me if I’d now rather work further on composing what I was to write on this and spot it once more another day.

    Absolute fantastic post!

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