When the first plane struck, it appeared initially to be a horrifying accident. The mind struggled to comprehend what had happened. Then the second plane struck the other tower.
In that instant, the nature of the event became unmistakable. What had appeared to be an inexplicable accident was revealed as a deliberate act. The second plane was the wake-up call. It was the moment when my perception changed and what seemed random acquired a deeper and more disturbing meaning.
I choose to extend the metaphor of the second plane beyond that ghastly event. There is, for every human being, a metaphoricalsecond plane; a morbid moment that will inevitably arrive from which there is no retreat. It is the moment when life confronts us with the ultimate certainty of our own mortality.
We do not know when it will arrive. We do not know what form it will take. But it will arrive with the realisation that as the years have passed, our own departure is no longer an abstract possibility.
And therein lies the extraordinary opportunity.
Between the first plane and our own second plane, we have life.
That interval is not merely time to be consumed. It is an opportunity to awaken.
We have the opportunity to examine what we have become and ask whether it is truly who we are. We can question the beliefs inherited from family, society, culture and circumstance. We can examine the conditioning that has steadily shaped our prejudices, fears, ambitions and attachments. We can challenge the self-limiting assumptions that tell us what we cannot become. We can reconsider the ways in which we treat one another and ask whether our lives contribute to the wellbeing of the larger human family.
Perhaps the greatest tragedy would be to receive the wake-up call and then go back to sleep.
Humanity has accumulated extraordinary knowledge, technological power and material sophistication. Yet our capacity to destroy, divide and dominate often seems to have advanced faster than our capacity for wisdom. We have become remarkably clever without necessarily becoming proportionately conscious. We have learnt how to conquer distance, manipulate matter and communicate across the planet, while still struggling to overcome hatred, greed, fear, vanity and tribalism within ourselves.
The transformation we need, therefore, cannot be achieved solely through political reform, economic restructuring or technological advancement. These have their place, but the deeper revolution must occur within consciousness itself.
A new world cannot be created by the old consciousness that produced the disorder of the existing one.
Humanity must begin to outgrow the consciousness of separation, that is the conviction thatI am separate from you, that my prosperity must come at your expense, that my nation is more important than another nation, that my beliefs are superior to yours, or that nature exists merely as a resource for human consumption.
We need a consciousness of interconnectedness.
Such a transformation begins with the individual. The world is not an idea somewhere beyond us. It is the collective expression of billions of individual minds, intentions and actions. Every resentment entertained, every act of compassion, every prejudice challenged, every kindness extended, every selfish impulse overcome contributes something to the consciousness of humanity.
The reformation of the world therefore begins with the reformation of the person.
And perhaps this is where the deepest transformation lies: in discovering that we have mistaken our image of ourselves for our true identity.
We identify ourselves by name, nationality, profession, possessions, social standing, religion, culture, achievements and history. These are descriptions of a human life, but they may not be the essence of the human being. Beneath these acquired identities lies a dimension of being that is not manufactured by society and cannot be possessed by the ego.
We are by design and in the deepest spiritual sense, spirit beings having a human experience but in an inherent state of unbeholdenment.
To recognise this is not to reject the human world, but to inhabit it differently. When identity moves beyond the narrow confines of the constructed self, compassion becomes more natural. Possessiveness loosens. Fear loses some of its authority. The success of another no longer diminishes us. Service becomes more meaningful than accumulation, contribution more fulfilling than consumption, and character more valuable than reputation.
This is the beginning of authentic transformation.
The caterpillar cannot become the butterfly while insisting upon remaining a caterpillar. Something of the old identity must dissolve. Likewise, humanity cannot create an idyllic world while fiercely preserving the consciousness that perpetuates conflict, division and indifference.
Perhaps our greatest task is therefore not to become something we are not, but to cast off what we have mistakenly believed ourselves to be.
The false image must gradually fall away.
What remains may be something freer and more authentic. It may be a human being no longer governed entirely by conditioning, but guided by awareness; no longer driven solely by acquisition, but inspired by contribution; no longer imprisoned by separation, but awakened to Oneness.
The metaphorical second plane is coming for every one of us.
We cannot prevent it. We cannot negotiate with it. We cannot ask for another opportunity once it arrives.
But we have this moment.
And perhaps that is the real wake-up call.
Not to live anxiously in anticipation of the second plane, but to live so consciously between now and then that, when our journey eventually comes to an end, we can say that we did not merely pass through life but, we awakened to it.
The second plane is inevitable. The awakening before it is a choice.
Anil Kumar of Langshott
Writing to Serve