What Makes the World Go Round

Last night I had a dream where a young student asked me very seriously what made the world go round. I sensed that he was expecting some condescending remark from an adult, some vacuous explanation that many adults give to young people when they don't respect the intelligence of a child. 

I said that there were many ways to answer that. One of them was that the world was part of the universe that is filled with electricity. That the world, the sun and the whole universe was vibrating with this power. Then I noticed Einstein and another scientist, perhaps Newton, sitting at the far end of the table shaking their heads in disagreement. Then, I said, another view is that gravity makes the world go round, as the sun, a much larger body and mass, keeps the earth in its orbit, much like a mother wants to keep her young child close to her. 

But neither of these answers seemed to satisfy the boy. 

But here is another, I said, and it is my thought. What makes the world go round is simply by the power of Wow! 

At this he smiled and I awoke. . . .

That boy of the dream was of course the child inside me who has struggled, like all of our inner children, to survive in this life of deadening purpose that is dominated by the logical reasoning mind. The boy is also a child who is awaiting me as his teacher as I prepare a possible new teaching venture at a school that emphasizes teaching from the Heart, where passion is promoted, and not teaching to the test or to gather good grades. 

This dream reminded me of a poem that I wrote from my book, "Footprints Along the Shore of an Incoming Tide." It was a poem I wrote years ago, inspired by my first child when he was a young bubbling ball of energy. 

ENTHUSIASM

People spend their days

Grudgingly doing tasks,

Enslaved

By the mind that tells them

They can only do this or that.

Day after day,

They hope for the lottery

To be free to fulfill their dreams—

Dreaming, praying,

While their eyes become more sunken

And their bones more protruding,

And gravity becomes more relentless

To pull their bodies back into the soil.

O Adventurer of the Cosmos,

Take up your banner of joy,

And go out into the jungle

And roar with the tigers,

And charge with the rhinos,

And live each day with a light

Shining in your eyes.

Janaka has,

And the toy chest of heaven

Lies open for him to pick and choose,

With angels anxiously waiting to bear such gifts.

When your body drops

A rerun of your life you’ll see.

Make it a good one,

When no yawns will drown out the words.

Make it a show

At which you can smile, laugh,

Say ooh and aah,

which finishes in a crescendo of a Wow!

The Infinite Self needs nothing to add to ItSelf,

So it does not tell you

To go grab something outside yourself,

Which will give you happiness

That they tell you is to be found

Only upon a Hollywood screen.

That Self,

which you are,

And share with All That Is,

Is happiness complete,

Wanting to express in this wonderland of delight.

If you feel anger at a desire thwarted,

Happiness did not send you that way—

But only the shadow of unfulfillment.

Let every moment be your desire,

Free of the whips of ‘shoulds,’

That you may be donned in creation’s garment—

A glorious garment removed by angelic hands

From the toy chest of God.

Janaka wears this garment,

Is given everything he needs,

And each moment

           His heart utters: Wow!