Our Place Here

Lately I have been wondering about our time here.  The way we struggle for survival -most earthly beings not just us humans.  How we seem to scramble to inhabit the limited matter available on this earth, consuming each other to maintain and prolong our time here.  It seems so borrowed, or more so –taken?  Do we belong here, or have we somehow managed to force our way into this plane of existence, never quiet at peace, never belonging unconditionally as you would expect one to feel when one is at home.

Every night we slip away exhausted from the days trials.  Every night until we finally slip away permanently.  Our origins as much of a mystery as our final departure.  Survival is so forced it is anything but natural.  We are like a boundless torrent of souls scrambling to inhabit a few bodies that may lend themselves as vessels for our manifestation on this mortal coil before we fade back to whence we came.

And yet nature seems infinitely abundant and always generous in its fulfilled promises.  Is our desperation fact or a lifestyle choice?  Must we kill or be killed or would all that change if we were willing to turn back to Eden and pick the fruit from the trees?  Would the chain of survival be forever broken as we turn back to our roots and let the earth nourish us as she will?  Will our psyche change?  Would we sleep better at night?  Would we live a healthier, happier life?  Would we be at peace?  Would we gain clarity to our predicament and most of all, would our fear finally dissipate?  Do we ever get to call this place home, or is it given that we are visitors -the only question being what kind of visitors we choose to be?