Intelligence is in my head, in the space between my ears, contained in the grey matter, inside a tough 3-layered membrane and protected by a shell, my skull. This is where I think, ruminate, where I make connections between mental concepts, where, apparently, ‘I’ am.
Descartes (in)famously said, “I think, therefore I am”. And that was drilled into me, especially when I attended university in France.
And so I thought and continued to think I thought for a long while yet. And at times I got shocked by what I thought; other times I felt delighted about how intelligent I was and every so often I baulked at what this head of mine came up with but, mainly and from quite early, I subscribed to the prevailing paradigm and did not question it.
You see, the recompense is sizeable and not to be scoffed at – if you are intelligent, you can go places, the world is your oyster, you’ve got it made. Or so they say.
Thing is, I never really made it. I could not get it to work, no matter how hard I tried and how many different roads I took. Writing a thesis was agony as I ploughed through books and many previously written papers, having been told that I needed reference after reference after reference to make my submission acceptable, plausible and defendable.
I chomped at the bit but submit I did; I submitted my body to the lovelessness, forsook any joy and then submitted the required and bound copy. I had never consulted my supervisor and basically just offloaded the whole thing when I deemed it finished. And I passed. Needless to say, no distinction in sight. And it did not matter, I was so over it. In fact, I had been over it after less than ten months into university – a letdown, a disappointment, a place bar inspiration that stunk of competition, alcohol and survival of the so-called brightest.
And then I went back to thinking; thinking myself superior and above those petty cuds that, like a ruminant, I had been asked to chew over and over again. And again, nothing ever truly worked. But there is a quiet and resigned satisfaction in the position of the failed great intelligence – after all, intelligence was something I could always fall back onto, as and when needed.
But what is this intelligence that believes itself to be smarter and better than another/others? What is this intelligence that keeps repeating the same old same old while expecting a different and more fortuitous outcome next time? What is this intelligence that can eat more and, in some cases, much more than the body needs? What is this intelligence that can deride another? What is this intelligence that needs to amass money and possessions but is never ever satiated?
This head-based, between the ears intelligence is a furphy, a decoy, an out in the open thinly disguised conspiracy that whispers in our ears that it is all there is, that it is it – the end all and be all of human existence, its defining factor and pinnacle; the certainty of survival of the fittest now being the survival of the most intelligent, seeing that the supermarket, the bottle shop and the delicatessen are just down the road, a mere 200m-drive away and no hunting for food required.
But what if the head is not it and intelligence not what it has been proclaimed and acclaimed to be? What if we do not think, if we are not the originators? What if thoughts come to and through us and from one of two sources – from our one Soul, divine love (fire), or the spirit’s desolation over its separation from this all-encompassing source and its restless roaming in a created reality that neither makes sense, nor works?
But it works fine, I hear you say? You are happy, satisfied with your lot, enjoy going out; you have seen the latest show, shaken hands with a celebrity, savour what is on offer and find pleasure in your just desserts?
Granted – but how do you make sense of a world, created by this apparently human intelligence in our head, that has not learnt that going to war does not solve anything and is inimical to harmony? That building walls between countries to keep a certain lot of people off one’s turf also does not work. But get this: how intelligent is it that, when the wall finally comes down, much triumph, celebration and shoulder slapping ensue because we were smart enough to demolish the wall? How come we don’t ponder and learn from the counter-intelligent idiocy of having put it up in the first place?
From the Ageless Wisdom I have learnt that my thoughts are not my thoughts; that I am not the source of my thinking but that thoughts come to and through me. That my one and only true choice is the alignment to the energy I choose to be sourced by – divine love and the all-encompassing wisdom of space or the much denser energy of the human spirit’s ever wilful and aberrant creation.
And thus, there is no need to create, no need for anguish or restlessness – we are all already there and the only task is to discern the energy that feeds us, turn our back on what does not make sense and return to our divine origins; return to where it all started before the spirit took off on its creative misdemeanours.
Simple? Yes, it is, if honesty and humility are our guiding principles.
Easy? Not always, but so very much worth it.
