An Askesian evening, the leaves shriveling as autumn deepens, the light of day slowly nestling itself behind the dying hills.
I sit in the quiet tranquility of my fields of Askesis, alone and undisturbed. I soak the contents of the philosophical book before me, and my mind is transfixed in its mental explorations.
As the light dims further, and the symbols on the page begin to grow faint, I close my book and tuck it away.
Content with my daily achievements, I lay back, gazing into the infinite sky, peering into the growing darkness. I descend into an informal meditative wandering, and thoughts drift across my awareness: the nature of existence, the universe and my relation to it, distant worlds, scenarios of conflict and battle, lost times.
A low shadow, drifting over the scarce ground, imprints its shape in the corner of my eye. I immediately rise, ready to attack. Prolonged solitude has primed me to regard all as a potential threat.
Muscles tensed, hands curling into rock-hard fists, I peer into the faint light to scope out my possible enemy.
I recognize the beast before me: brown-orange fur coating a sleek, nimble frame. The fox.
My fists unfurl, shoulders descend as I exhale my last embattled breath, and I relax in the presence of this harmless, fragile creature. There is no need to fight. I know this animal.
The fox reacts to my initial movement with abrupt alertness. It, too, was bracing itself, ready to flee at the sight of another predator. After recognizing it, I remain still, quietly returning its gaze. Time freezes, and for several silent moments, we stare.
Slowly, it accepts my presence, acknowledges that I am no threat. It eases, returning to its routine.
It stalks up to my sitting rock, where I absorb the Sun’s rays as I engage in my readings and writings, and cranes its neck onto the seat, sniffing, detecting the smell I imprinted there only hours before. It occasionally looks my way, as if continuing to gage my safeness. But I remain still and silent, reaffirming my lack of intention to harm. I quietly observe its animal movements.
It is primal, so simple and direct. There is only raw perception and expression. There is no contrived wording, no deceptive display and exaggeration, no fake cultural symbols and codes of behavior. Pure, unfiltered expression.
As the dark grip of night overtakes its sibling, evening, and their mother’s time dwindles, I am reminded that I must return to the degenerate, fake world of human society. I angrily lament inside at how I must go back and unwillingly reinsert myself into the social fold, consumed by the institution of “higher” education. “Work” and “progress” needs to be done, and I am torn from my world of Askesis.
I regretfully disrupt the silent, tranquil atmosphere, and reintroduce my threatening humanness. Rustling a branch in the leaves, I watch the fox abruptly turn stiff and dart its eyes to my spot. Frightened, the trust it gradually built up in those moments shatters, and it flees from my threatening presence.
As it runs off, blending further into the autumn ground, a sigh seeps from deep within my lungs, the fox’s fleeing orange form representing the elusiveness of freedom, reminding me of my forced disconnection.
I relate to this animal, in many ways, more than to other humans.
It is only me, and the fox, who connect to the natural, non-human world, solitary. Only I venture into these fields, and experience them from a primal mindset, unfiltered by the constructs of modern civilized clutches. The fox scours for prey alone. I seek training and challenges, alone. We both wander this place with raw, simple goals. Pure expression.
Other humans, see the field as a light-hearted diversion, another entertainment they can choose from their civilized plates, where they can walk their domesticated pets, jog their sheltered bodies to remain attractive to their human friends and mates, and socialize with their family on a fifteen minute saunter. Nature, for them, is something to be experienced in a superficial, artificial way. They cannot endure it in its fullness, without human companionship, in a pure, primal mode. They cannot view it outside of their civilized mindset.
While the other humans cradle with their families and mates in their heated homes, I dwell in the fields, enduring the bitter cold, bleeding over the coarse rocks. I experience the hostile bitch in nature that her beauty hides so well to the average human mind. I am awake to the suffering, the brutality, that existence and reality entails. They are sheltered from it.
Only the fox knows what I know, experiences what I experience. No other human does.
You, fox, in this place, are the closest thing to a real friend I have. My connection to you surpasses the shallow ties I hold with others of my species. How I envy your detachment from the human world.
-Lykos-
From The Arena of Askesis: http://conflictascetic.blogspot.com/