Even with the hissing wind wafting a wonderfully familiar scent of swine, the dry spell continues much to the dismay of farmers who desperately need rain for a bountiful crop. Though there has been a consistent tapestry of clouds ranging from light and puffy to ominous and bleak, rain has not been successfully summoned. In spite of all the required elements: a thick, murky blob of cloud, persistent, bursting gales, a warm, sticky temperature, and, most importantly, dismayed farmers stirring up resentment at aspects beyond their control, an anticipated, biblical downpour has been elusive, charging speculators, agronomists, and, of course, farmers. Anxious is a simplification as conversations numbering the expected number of raindrops have began or at least referenced this lack of moisture. Despite human ability, nature is the blind arbiter of a successful yield even more so than the government, free market, or copious amounts of ammonia.
In a similar vein, the struggle for insight is one outside of discriminating intellect. Much like rain, disease, or any other phenomenon escaping human subjugation, insight cannot be channeled through runic incantations, chemical injections, or any other manipulative desire. Although events beyond imagination have occurred throughout this adventure, none of them wield the mantle of inspiration as it seems insight is beyond such events and occurs as it pleases, spiting best efforts otherwise. Spontaneity is self-explanatory. Visiting a free range chicken operation and participating in the morning chores was an experience, however, it did not spawn insight though nondiscrimination was my mindset. Neither witnessing chickens swarm at a broken egg, devouring it in mere seconds, nor seeing the chicken pariahs who were attacked by their 700 or so peers and subsequently isolated for survival’s sake, triggered an internal revelation. Hours of meditation while in cars, rooms, discussions, cooking, or any other activity, have brought tranquility, serenity, and calm but not insight.
Unlike the farmers’ frustration, the lack of insight into reality has failed to be a bother…until writing this particular post. Even now, the elusive inspiration has not completely blocked this endeavor but rather forced it to take an alternate, if longer, route. Nondiscrimination has gripped my thought patterns for some time with only twitches of discrimination peppering it on occasion. Though insight appears to lie somewhere in the murky depth of nondiscrimination, it only reveals itself when required much like a stage magician reappearing only after anticipation has adequately built up. Although this case of writer’s block could be viewed as detrimental, I view it as a progression through the entanglement of unbiased fulfillment. Similar to an equestrian, insight only grips the reins when necessary. Hence, its temporary disappearance implies a proper trajectory as I have not been drawn towards wind turbines, pig semen, or any other unorthodox stimuli as of late. For now, it seems the white path is being skillfully navigated between the roaring river of water and flame, heading towards the last instance of insight. So long as discriminating factors such as bias, statistics, science, and other dualistic aspects remain at bay (still present but not as a finality), so shall insight as it does not present itself needlessly.