Evolution

Have you ever noticed that right there, embedded in the word evolution, are our human operating instructions? Those first four letters are the clue. Flip them around and you have the word love. Follow the word further, and from love, you also have volution.

I love word-play. I love that volution means literally to be compelled forward. My dictionary calls it “a rolling or revolving motion.” If we are true to the instructions of the word evolution, we then have to admit that the word itself literally means love compelled forward, or love going from now, to now. Now, being the only moment in our reality. Love, being the most comfortable feeling to hold during that “now” moment.

Where are you right now? Are you reading each word on this page, one at a time, and at your own speed or volution? Is each word compelling you to the next powered by its own volition? Sometimes we are compelled to read more quickly. The words build a momentum of curiosity for the next thought concept, the next comprehension that the author intends for its reader. Excitement to know what happens now builds, and exposes a great writer's ability to compel its reader forward.

Evolution of the story compels interest. Evolution of our stories is such a deep, wide concept that it embodies all stories, all fiction, non fiction, poetry, memoir, narration and it is the literal manifestation of the evolution of thought itself.

Everything is changing. Everything changes within every moment whether we realize we are conscious, or not. Folklore wisdom stories have been known to evoke the image of the All-Mother; the elderly woman sitting in a rocking chair knitting, while a kitten unravels her yarn. The unraveling yarn are the stories of our lives. In the background you can easily imagine hearing a harmony of women's voices singing;

"We are the weavers, we are the web, we are the flow, we are the ebb." And then the chorus - "she changes everything she touches, and everything she touches, she changes."   

The All-Mother rocks quietly, pulling each loop over the needle with her fingertip one at a time while creating a beautiful garment one movement at a time. One flip of the strand of yarn, one click of the needle quickly passing the other. From now, to now she repeats each movement while a soft, beautiful sweater emerges.

Soft, useful, and each row even though it is almost the same as the last one, builds into a different pattern that builds up into something worthy of our love. Something warm and encompassing. Something that we will, most likely, pass forward to someone else to enjoy one day.  

Volution. Compelled forward in the throes of change. Love. The highest form of energy to hold on to consciously as we are compelled through these inevitable changes.

Today I gaze out my window at swirling light snow. Each unique flake reminds me of the earth changes that bring such remarkable weather to an area that more normally soaks our days with gray and drizzle.

I place my heart in trust. I trust human ingenuity to help course correct a veering culture focused on the accumulation of stuff and things. I trust our evolution is tied to survival. Survival, it seems, is directly tied to evolution.

I waxed triumphant in this understanding when I read about a biologist's study of lizards living on a small island. A group of scientists had just finished measuring the sizes of this colony of lizard's legs, toes, tails, etc as part of an ongoing understanding of their species.

The group left the island just before a huge hurricane came rumbling through the area. The hurricane came after the scientists left, but not before one more generation of the lizard population had reproduced.

Distraught about the storm event, the scientists were sure that their study subjects had been wiped out, and that their study would officially come to an end. To be sure, though, they of course returned to see for themselves.

What they found was described as "flabbergasting." Not only was the population of lizards still thriving, they were there because within that one generation of reproduction, their bodies had responded in preparation for the intensity of the storm.

The population responded by growing thicker, stronger legs and longer toes, with better suction on the tips and longer tails to more vigorously cling to safety during high winds. Yes. In just one generation.

I now believe that humanity is on the cusp of evolution. I believe we have the tools and the instinct for not only survival, but thrival. Like the lizards on a remote island, or an old woman knitting a sweater, the instinct to thrive will guide the course corrections needed to evolve into a kinder, more self aware species.

I was reminiscing with an indigenous friend about a shared acquaintance who had become a drug addict and was living on the streets in poverty. This person said "life just bit him in the heart too hard."

Pain and struggle too often seem to take the "love" out of our travel from this moment to the next. Loving life, loving our work, loving our spouse or kids can seem like a challenge at times.

These difficulties are our wake up call to consciousness. In the many schools of spiritual advice we are told to be more "conscious." We hear phrases like "consciousness is cause" or "be conscious in your moment."

But exactly what is it we are being conscious about?

Love, I say.

I read the book "Be Here Now" by Ram Das many years ago. To this day I still remember the instructions within that little book: "Love as much as you can from wherever you are."

The natural volition of my thoughts becoming words have now compelled me to the end of my narrative. I hope this natural evolution of my conscious thought has moved you in some way.

I hope this movement feels like it's going forward in time - from now, to now. I hope that while this has been happening, you have also felt your heart experience perhaps a new glimpse of that special energy we call love.