A Wrong Turn to the Right Road
Pictured above: guest blog author, Aaron Ableman
"Looking at a rose does not tell you that it is a rose; the things you notice about the rose–its color, shape, fragrance, and beauty–were all created by the looker. These things are not qualities of the thing itself, but our own knowledge about the flower projecting itself, that’s all."-Krishnamurti
This is a “Guest Blog” and when I invite someone to be a guest blogger at The Gravaton it’s because I hold that person in esteem for selfless qualities I’ve seen them demonstrate in their dealings with others, as well as for the fact my gut tells me that the person in question is an all around “good egg” based on my own personal dealings with them.Guest bloggers have free reign to write about whatever they wish without censor and all guest blogs are presented without endorsement or rebuke of any kind. Any input from me as editor has already been incorporated into the article with the authors consent.
Guest blogs remain the intellectual property of their authors and are presented here on a nonexclusive basis with the permission of the author.
A Wrong Turn to the Right Road a.k.a. "Clean Toilet, open Spirit"
Now, Aaron Ableman’s
When I was 15, I first read William Blake under an oak tree… It was like visionary hip-hop on a Zen mountain top! Go figure. I was attending a rustic boarding school founded during the peak of the 1930’s depression teaching the experiential ethics of sustainable living from Thoreau to the Buddha. Situated on three thousand acres of wilderness, the philosophy deeply illumined the value of Nature in all of Her infinite relationships.
We aimed to live simply, with what we ‘needed’ and not what we ‘wanted’, a tough distinction in a world of never enough needless things. Nevertheless, the students made various attempts at understanding this inconvenient daily challenge by cleaning toilets, rewriting mathematical theorems, and ‘not’ taking too many ice-cream bars after supper. It was a community of punks and hip-hoppers, nerds and losers, sports players and wayward thespians.
But when I first picked up the aforementioned book by William Blake for some quiet reading under an ancient oak tree, something shifted in my observation of ’study’ (and more importantly, life in general). Now that’s not to say I didn’t already greatly appreciate the miracle of studying in such a unique high school environment.
Believe it or not, I actually loved writing essays depicting the impact of European disease on Native peoples in the tragic conquest of the America’s. I loved chasing girls through the wilderness after dark. I even loved chopping wood for hours in the December rain, just to make a few kids’ shower water hot.
In fact, I was one of the happier students in that strange place and…being a chameleon by nature, I’d always made my best
intents on adaptation to various climates, be they urban farms or third world war zones but…
On that one blessed day, when all my friends had left to play sports, and I labored over Blake’s proverbs, I realized that in so constantly seeking to challenge myself with external physical & academic stimuli, I had been ignoring the web of life all around and within me. I had lost my connection with nature; the nature of my mind in all of it’s awesome spirit. It was then that I turned the page to read:
"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity…and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself."
My life (before reading the words above) had been slave to the endless thoughts of the who, what, where, when and why, but never… the "Wow"! I had sacrificed the real creative learning of openness and mystery and I’d missed the clichéd "forest for the tree’s".
The work of the nameless creator, makes light look like shadow until you read between the signs.

"There is a Secret One inside us; the planets in all the galaxies pass through his hands like beads. That is a string of beads one should look at with luminous eyes." -Kabir
Until my quiet epiphany in central California, I’d not realized how my boarding school was seeking in it’s ‘wild cultivation’ of young minds” to open the world of possibility to me. Since that day however, I’ve changed my entire approach to the "learning" process.
My opinion of rocks, for example, expanded into pure awe after participating in improvisational theater exercises next to a river for 11th grade extra-credit class.
Subsequent revelations abounded in such a newly re-perceived environment of study, work, and sillyness: even compost became sacred and poetry, exploded off the page in with a force most boom boxes can’t "bump". Seems I fell into this ‘minor enlightenment’ school by accident, “a wrong turn to the right road”…
It’s with this spirit of happy coincidence and magic that I now ascribe to live with. From impromptu street performances in downtown Bombay, India to making living flower mandalas with eight year olds. The more I see life as awesome the more AWE-some it becomes. The more love for the serendipitous truth of ‘what is’, the more I feel gratitude to this unexpected path.
Without presumption or ego, I am moved by a larger spirit these days. I have somehow found my own solar system, a microcosmic artist painting the macrocosm, awakened from the sleep induced illusions of commercial culture. In this sense, I hope that all beings of the world may discover their infinite potential which sits waiting at every moment.
May we all discover the Buddha at the supermarket, the rainbow in the street side puddle, the music which can create Duke Ellington, the tree which inspires Julia Butterfly and the book which sings of divine imagination.
I’ll close this Gravaton Blog out with a song who’s theme resonates with this post. It’s titled "Education"
You can hear more of my music and sample my art at Ablemonk and find about my education based initiatives at
Planet Express.
Peace
Aaron Ezra Ableman
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