Did you see it? Have you seen the green flash? You know, that split-second moment when retreating Sun cannonballs into Sea delivering a cosmic wink, celestial eyelashes flapping emerald firework. How did you miss that? It was right there. Perhaps you looked too early. Gotta be careful, you’ll pan-fry your damn eyeballs and then you bet your bottom dollar no one’s ever seen ‘em a green flash through an eye patch.
No one sees a flash through an eye patch.
So this is it. This is your moment. This is your chance. Your number has been called. Fortune cookie reads: “You may be dead tomorrow.” It will come. It will pass. The flash-snap of your existence ends just as abruptly as it begins. Life happens all in a moment. All in one simple…electric…flash. Faulty arithmetic carries the one, adds a zero to get time and space birthing the omnipresent crosshair of the here and the now. And that’s all. So try not to blink, don’t even yawn. Fight through the stinging eyes, the discomfort, the anticipation, the Mystery of Unknown, Unexplained. It’s supposed to work this way.
You have a choice. You can dazzle viewers with this fleeting moment, this lifetime exploding upon the horizon with the harnessed energy of 5,434,614,321 striking rattlesnakes, wild shrapnel spraying from the Source, ripping through skin and soul. You can overwhelm the Pacific with tears of surrender as the papyrus scroll of your unfolding poem bounces playfully down a dusty path unknown. You can commit. You must. Because, when Sea finally snaps shut its unavoidable and unpredictable jaws around your ephemeral radiant blast, all will cease.
You will laugh. You will cry. You will howl and you will die.
So I ask you to fall in love. Right now. Fall in love with someone. Fall in love with something. Fall in love with some place. Some work of art. A song. A movement. A mountain. A pattern. A food. A project. A sorus pod clinging to the backside of dripping Fern. Whatever it is, envelope it with your fullest embrace, because you might not ever have another chance.
“You don’t ever let go of that thread,” as your boldness, creativity and passion may spark heady revolution across ocean and mountaintop. And revolution is precisely what we need. Revolt against a life lived without flash. Revolt against a system that objectifies and calculates the property value of wild. Revolt against institutions and lifestyles that reduce our spirit explosions to yawns and anger and isolation and greed and anxiousness and bones and ashes and soot. Revolt against workplaces that microwave our existence — uncomfortably hot on the outside, ice-cold in the middle.
And then say yes. Yes to that “stupid” idea or lofty dream for which only others supposedly have the fortitude to follow. Say yes to people and community that demands the real You, nothing more, nothing less. Drop ways that no longer serve us — calcifying routine, sedative media, seductive digital distraction. All out to advertise, polarize, sensationalize, demonize. Be not the fumbling spectator unconvinced that such existence is possible. Be flash now. Learn what engages your depth then fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire until all that is left is the hollow sound of metallic morse code clicking and an acrid waft of discharged rounds piled high.
Like only you can.
Because once the sun has begun its Mariana plunge, once all retinas have been unequivocally burned to a smoldering heap of ash, once all participating pineal glands have steeped long in victory, there will commence a sky burial ceremony above in your honor. Cumulonimbus pinks and purples blush while Pelican face muscles twitch, wings extended fully in a meditative survey of dark waters below. And all that remains, all that endures are lapping waves and whispering Westerlies. A return to something familiar, to the kin of Supreme Emptiness.
So I ask: Are you the green flash, or are you merely spectating?
Photo Credits: Todos Aventura, Genevieve, Orlando Beltran