I wrote this while thinking through Carl Jung’s Memories, Dreams, Reflections.
If god isn’t an invention of consciousness, so I can neither make god more remote nor eliminate god, I can bring god closer to the possibility of being experienced. God is an instinct. Our instinct is diminished when we have to prove something about the nature of god. Trusting in instinct and listening to it is not faith, but then I don’t know what faith is anymore; instinct is stronger and deeper…something biological. I watch my dog dreaming and recognize the instinct of the divine in all things. Her eyebrows twitch with delight.
Instinct of the divine. When I watch the minute details of spring emerge from winter, the leaves of dogwoods by my drive press out creamy white flowers and fresh leaves, both of which suffer the tumult of winter not quite finished with the world, I recognize in it the divine. This divinity is the same in the dogwoods as it is in me. It’s an urge to become. To transform from one state to another. Fire changes wood to ash, water wears down stone. Air keeps us moving. Earth grows herbs and flowers that once again become earth. We are all aspects of earth; plants, animals, trees, we are all aspects of earth being acted upon by the other elements to transform, acting with the divine instinct of becoming. Instinct is carried by the unconscious which carries all the archetypes that bring us together and giving meaning to our world.
We don’t ever directly experience instinct. It’s never measurable nor can we see it. We can see images of it but they are all cultural representations of how we’ve come to understand it. We feel it.
My dog rests her head and front paws on a pillow, asleep at my feet as I write this. She puffs breath into the fabric with a sort of impatience. Usually we associate animals with instinct. We speak of instinctual behavior as if the desire to become were degrading. And yet there it is: We are animals. What causes animals to migrate? What drives a bird to build a nest, to warm their fragile eggs so diligently? To become who they are? What drive us to become, to be, who we are? That can’t be so degrading after all.
It was when I was watching her sleep and watching her dream that I realized animals know god too. And god is the state of becoming. Through instinct, animals worship at the altar of becoming. I worship at the altar of becoming.