Written 7 November 1987, posted now as follow-up to ‘God is a shout in the street’ discussion with Cymbeline.
What is my idea of God? Necessarily and rightly vague. Life, energy. The generating, underlying. The sum of all fragments. I must continue to follow an independent course of openness.
An inkling in the park today, watching a duck fly over the water, of what I’m not sure. Of everything being in the instant. The energy of that duck. The duck does not have a philosophy. An inking that everything is ‘just’ energy, coagulating in you and me. And that energy should be allowed to flow, should not be wasted in concrete constructions. ‘I don’t know’ is often my philosophy.
Great art, including sport, as a ‘let-flow’ of energy. A release. Opening of a door. When all the doors are open, God’s breath will blow right through. Musicians are good illustrations. You practise and practise to allow the energy to flow better, not to hinder it. You are not the source of the energy, more the channel. But scraping along the sides of the channel, it may acquire a certain character, be enhanced. Energy flows; art is the residue.
A song has worth only in the singing, when energy, life is breathed into it as into a body. Each of us is a song being sung by God. The singer is sung by the song as the song is sung by the singer, a two-way thing. An n-way thing, to infinity, in a complicated interrelated world. When God stops singing us we die, but still exist, to be sung to a different tune.
A quote from Krishnamurti, just stumbled upon: ‘In oneself lies the whole world and if you know how to look and learn, then the door is there and the key is in your hand. Nobody on earth can give you either the key or the door to open, except yourself.’