As a matter of principle, I usually draw a distinction between persons and things, in the broader sense of the terms. I believe that persons should have priority over things. That should sound quite easy to digest, but I have encountered numerous occasions where material consumables are given more importance than human beings, especially where money is concerned. How can we explain away war, for example, if not power, money, ideology over the interests of humankind?
To me, money is just money, a means to an end and definitely not an end in itself. The fact that I am not particularly attached to vast amounts of currency is evidence, if such is needed, that my top priorities lie elsewhere.
Lately, however, I have been thinking seriously whether places, stone, houses have a soul of their own! How else can we describe the feeling we get when we visit a place, whether that is familiar or otherwise? How can we become attached to a house, an area, a country even! Maybe one can argue that we become attracted to these by the same criteria with which we can become attached to a car, boat or other possessions, but I feel that stone formations, whether in their natural state or man-made emit quite a different sort of vibration than other non-persons.
I have always believed that where we go is not as important as whom we go with. Where we stay takes secondary importance to whom we stay with. Whether or not we enjoy where we live can be determined by our neighbours and if we work in the best of companies but do not get along well with either the boss or colleagues, than we cannot be really happy there. This means that I have in the past attributed the vibes we get from a particular location to the persons associated with our experience there.
Recently, I have had to rethink this in the light of certain emotions I have felt while visiting some places even in the absence of other persons. One may argue that persons do not have to be physically there to have an influence on our thoughts and perceptions. They may even be in our thoughts by their actual absence as in the case of the classic “I wish you were here” syndrome.
It’s not that! I have started to feel an affinity and attraction to certain locations for their own sake. For their purity, the tranquility they evoke; the touching of my personal inner spirituality. Our bodies, which are by their very essence as material as the earth itself, seem to communicate directly with nature, bypassing even our subconscious. This communication is what our mind needs to tap into. This, in my humble opinion, is the holistic approach to wellbeing.
Before starting to eat healthily, we need to have the right ingredients.
We need to be aware what the right ingredients are before we can acquire them.
Before all this, we need to find the right place to do it.
