Scio. Latin for, "I know" (and the same word from which we get "science", "omniscience", etc.) What I know, and how I know things, seems to be changing quite quickly, or at least my perception of the process. It may be that I was knowing things differently all along, but didn't "know" it! (How's that for circular reasoning!)
A week or two ago, I came in on the conclusion of a public television broadcast about how global climate change is affecting a certain ecosystem. The main scientist studying the situation was obviously extremely concerned, and he was certainly an expert, bringing to the problem as much knowledge and skill as is probably humanly possible. Yet even having caught only part of the program, I was still left with this niggling feeling, much as I am when I hear about scientific, political, and industrial efforts to address or "fight" our growing climate challenge. It's like, this man was not speaking my language (and I mean that in a broader sense than the obvious one of my not being a scientist).
It took a few days to untangle the threads of this. So, here goes.
I think it's important to remember that our scientific construct came out of our larger "patriarchal" one: until very recently, most scientists were male, had been trained within all-male systems, and they brought to the discipline a duality/"conflict" (this vs. that) set of assumptions. One of the hallmarks of this construct is separation, staying in observer mode. Even in some of the fields where I have spent time (academia, the arts, journalism), keeping a distance is crucial. We learn about things by looking at "them", studying "them", trying to figure "them" out. Then we write about "them", make a painting of "them", or try to fix "them". I guess that's what I heard in this program, the language of hope that science would help humans fix what is happening out there.
That's what hit me. I don't think the human concept of "science" reflects the way Mother Nature creates, or experiences Her creation. She is creation. It unfolds naturally out of Her, love and passion swirling out through space and time. And we humans are not separate from Her or from the rest of creation. The current situation may not even really be, to Her, our human concept of "a problem", much less one that can be fixed by us. But to address it in any way -- even to start to understand it -- may require more of us to leave observer mode and be one with earth. When I see thousands of plastic containers at the grocery store, this odd thing is starting to happen. It's less now of "Oh, no, we shouldn't be making so much out of plastic", and more a sense of feeling what it would be like to be some of the dirt at the bottom of a landfill, crushed by tons of debris and far from the light, oxygen and rain I need in my life. I can almost feel what it would feel like to be molecules of water in a lake or ocean into which toxic chemicals are being spilled, or to be a bird who has unwittingly just ingested poisonous pesticides. I feel literal pain when I see holes being dug for new construction, or news footage of towering clouds of black smoke when train cars or warehouses catch fire. I'm starting to experience all this pain in real time.
This level of "oneness" with nature (and there are probably many, many thousands of people worldwide who are far more aligned than I am!) is extremely hard. No wonder we've been encouraged to remain numb, to enjoy our many advantages, conveniences, and shortcuts. And our scientists have created wonders. I participate with thankfulness in those wonders almost every hour of the day, phoning or texting friends, cooking food, taking the bus, watching TV, and even as the most modest user of other modern technology.
But I know what I know about coming events and trends, from within, from inner alignment with Nature, from literally feeling the earth's increasing pain. I am no longer primarily an observer. And that's a huge turning point. My "scio" moment, perhaps.
