The Revelation of Apocalypse
The Book of Genesis: Noah’s Ark
“So God said to Noah, “I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them. I am surely going to destroy both them and the earth. So make yourself an ark…”
I nearly died once. I won’t go into the details now. Perhaps one day. But I remember leaving my body, before a good friend and some cold, wet, English mud, brought me back to earth. Quite literally. I love mud! And I will definitely do a post on the holy magic of mud at some point. Anyway, since then (and a few other scrapes with the heavenly realms), I have developed a rather strange, and quite intimate, relationship with my own mortality.
It’s quite hard to describe, but it feels incredibly close, and not something to fear at all. It’s like this rather soft, fuzzy and friendly presence, or filter, that takes the edge of everything. Death, for me, is a bit like one of those characters in a book or film with a wonderfully laissez faire approach to an impending execution or a hopeless battle. Death’s presence feels brutally honest, irreverently funny, devastatingly wise, nihilistically optimistic, and calmly courageous, all at the same time.
My friend Death manages to simultaneously take my life incredibly seriously, and yet not seriously in the slightest; and sort of keeps me motivated and productive to a degree, whilst making any instinct for perfectionism and worldly ambition entirely ludicrous. Death seems to give me permission to follow my dreams and desires, whilst also giving me complete license to sit around, drinking tea, and watching TV, with my favourite folk for hours on end. I should listen to Death more than I do, as they are a faithful friend, like no other, especially in the aftermath of public humiliations, indiscretions, and failures. Death loves these moments! But also offers a few wise words to console my bruised pride; mainly along the lines of: it really doesn’t matter. All will be well. I’ve got you. And I’ll definitely get you! [Death laughs]
Indeed, Death helped create The Apocalypse Disco, an electronic dance duo, of which I am half. Death is our biggest fan. Death is at every gig and recording session, reminding us that we’re on the Titanic, and we’ve just hit an iceberg. The ship is going down. What do you want to do? Scream, shout and fight over lifeboats? Or do want to head down to the ballroom for one last drink and dance? Death asks us such questions. And our gigs and songs are reflections and responses to Death’s witty, brutal and courageous inquiries. I have included our video for THUNDER, one of Death’s favourites.
Apocalypse comes from the Greek word, Apokálypsis, which means ‘lifting of the veil’. In other words: Revelation, not Armageddon. And for me, it’s a highly revelatory thought experiment to invite The Apocalypse into my life, as a way of showing me important insights: who am I? What matters? What am I worrying about? Who, or what, am I living for? What is my story arc? What is my ARK?
Is it a tragedy? Well, I guess we know the ending! No one wins. We all lose. We all die. And perhaps this Apocalypse of sorts has the power to ‘lift the veil’ on what kind of ARK we should build; on what style of ending we could write.
I am reminded of one of my favourite quotes from Elizabth Gilbert’s excellent book on creative living, Big Magic:
“There is a famous question that shows up, it seems, in every single self-help book ever written: What would you do if you knew that you could not fail? But I’ve always seen it differently. I think the fiercest question of all is this one: What would you do even if you knew that you might very well fail? What do you love doing so much that the words failure and success essentially become irrelevant? What do you love even more than you love your own ego?”
It's an excellent thought experiment, when faced with big life decisions: Imagine all paths lead to failure. Each option does not bring the prize, the glory, and the accolades. Not one path leads to the gold, the praise, or the reputation. What do you choose then?
This question really focuses our minds, bodies and souls, on what gives meaning, joy, wonder, and fulfilment, and not what our family, friends, religion, algorithms, and economic-systems demand. And the funny thing is, the ‘fiercest of questions’, isn’t really an imaginative thought-experiment: All paths do end in failure, in the sense, we all die. We can’t take our titles, qualifications, money, awards, and reviews with us. Even the memory of us will die one day, however extraordinary our legacy is. [Death laughs]
Of course, we might have to ‘give to Caesar what is Caesar’s’, as Christ puts it, but not at the cost of our true creative selves: our souls. Only the ego dies. Only!
So, when I am flapping about in worldly indecision, being driven around the bends by my agitated and panicked ego; my very creative, soulful, and wise wife asks me a similarly fierce question: what would you do if you didn’t have to tell anyone what you do?
And this beautifully, brutal question, that pierces and punctures my ego’s need for recognition, also provides a brilliant, bright revelation to my soul’s authentic desires. And the soul really doesn’t seem to care whether its dreams and visions are rejected and ridiculed by the world’s fashions and fads. The soul doesn’t seem bothered by rewards and riches. As the Thirteenth Century poet and Sufi mystic, Rumi, famously writes:
‘Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah…it makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.’