What Paul knows...

Musings

As we systematically destroy earth, let oil spills seep into ocean beds, denude rain forests, create more weapons of war than solutions of peace, eat living things, kill tigers, rhinos, whales to the point of extinction, we somehow have come to believe in our own omnipotence. In the idea that we are entitled to our greed. Well, are we?

Just recall the little invertebrate on your TV screen who basically turned the most popular sport on the planet into a one-mollusk show. Paul, the all-knowing oracle  did not choose just the winners of eight consecutive games at the FIFA, he chose us, billions of confounded losers to say, “Guys, you are not the centre of even a football field. You don't know zilch about anything, including football. When you run rough-shod over other forms of life, I am the fine print you miss. You miss the point that all creation is sacred. That we have not been put on the earth to add just meat to your paella. That even mollusks can teach you a thing or two about life. And football.’’

This psychic super-star should now tweet about the future of this planet because frankly, we could use some pointers about what lies ahead. We are bad, to put it mildly, at far-sightedness. We never see life in a larger context. We just run with the ball without knowing where the goal post is.'

A few best-sellers including Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, James Redfield's Celestine Prophecy, Deepak Chopra's Synchrodestiny have told us that we are basically croutons in the ‘soup’ of creation. That everything from a blade of grass, to a chair to yes, even an octopus is made of the same energy that has built the universe. And so unless we fall into harmony with the idea that we are not the soup but just an ingredient, we will never realise the purpose of our existence on this planet. We are being told to look for  ‘signs’ to life’s questions, to tap into not just personal but universal intelligence which is something larger, deeper, more expansive than anything our minds can conjure of.

The point of such writing is to show that wisdom, the kind displayed by Paul, comes from a mysterious place we cannot put a finger on. And that human knowledge is limited. Paul has made us long for the serenity that ‘knows’ the right answers without knowing why and not surprisingly, has sparked off an international bidding war, with a Spanish businessman offering nearly €38,000 ($66,150) for him to come to Spain. Of course, the businessman like most human-beings has his own agenda and wants to rename him Paolo and use him as a mascot at a food event. I can just see Paul shaking his wise head, reach out for a clam with his eight tentacles and say, “Humans!”

RM