coronavirus (photo credit: medscape)
The Upanishads are the sacred Indian texts (collected from 800 to 500 BC), which illustrate the philosophical concepts that nudge us toward enlightenment. The Sanskrit word upanishad (उपनिस्हद्) comes from upa, which means near and shad, which means to sit. The stories of the Upanishads were meant to be listened to up close at the feet of the master. They are designed to teach the ideas that cannot be understood through intellect.
My ancestors inhabited the coastland that nestles at the feet of Vesuvius. Hundreds of years ago they must have thought of the sleeping volcano as an angry, spiteful, capricious god who hurled fiery wrath without warning. The mountain has erupted many times over the millennia in fairly regular cycles, most famously in 79 AD, when it destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum and most recently in 1944 during the Allied occupation of World War Two.
We are not sure how many perished in long ago eruptions, but we do know that Vesuvius remains active and overdue for its next explosion. Today 600,000 people live huddled at its ankles. What wisdom did the members of those first ancient societies scattered along the Bay of Naples gather that each subsequent generation has forgotten?
Early peoples performed rites and rituals to appease the wrath of the sky, earth and ocean. Now that a modern day scourge is upon us, I am beginning to understand the primeval desire to purify in order to placate the gods. The Bible is full of examples of plagues and locusts and floods that warned and purged those who did not heed the word of Yahweh. If I meditate and pray and swab down every wall and door handle, then perhaps this blight will pass over my house and my loved ones.
In these days of pandemic contagion, science cautions us to distance ourselves from one another. Just when we thought we were so connected, we find out how much we truly crave physical proximity and touch. It is difficult not to hug or offer a hand in welcome. So many things are shared close in—the whisper of a secret, the pat on the shoulder, the stolen kiss. But for now, we must be flexible in our expressions of warmth. I tend to favour the slight bow and salutation of namaste, with hands held in prayer pose at the level of the heart, where we each acknowledge the divinity in the other. And maybe we will return to the old-fashioned phone call to savour the tone and song of a dear one’s voice.
In our rush to colonise and cultivate and compartmentalise, we need to remember that at the most existential level there are no borders or barriers on this planet. We all share the same air and seasons and sun and soil. This is possibly the most mortal lesson of all.
One thing is for certain, you can seat yourself right alongside the master’s toes and listen for a lifetime (or several) and never learn. We cannot think our way to awareness. And we will not become more godlike by disavowing what is most human about us.