The spirit of the age must take a form the age can understand if it wishes to reveal itself. Not all spirits do; many zeitgeists pass in unreferenced solitude.
Be that as it may, can’t you feel it? I think you can; I’m sure we can. The blessing of expression is in the air. Oh thunder, oh momentous events, I think you’re a throat clearing for something both louder and clearer that is on the way, is on the wind!
The most consequential are still shackled to the elevation of the land they find themselves on. Why does it sometimes feel as if the spirit is talking down to us? Perhaps it’s as simple as: we are denizens of a valley age! Still, even below sea level, it is admirable to stand tall! Do not lose heart! Call me a spirit apologist if you will, but I will not blame it for the form it takes. And so what if its messengers are imperfect? Imperfect messengers are, in fact, the perfect fit for an imperfect age!
Knowing this, I will pay better attention. Voices I might have discounted out of hand, I will collect and sift through. Oh spirit, better understanding the limitations we give you, I will seek you out more carefully, knowing that you must speak a language that poor modernity, indoctrinated with total materialism, can understand.
Spirit, bless you that you still deign to speak to us! I will no longer expect the king to arrive in medieval attire. A savior of a new people is coming. Ah, despite their best efforts, the people still deserve a savior! Who are the people? The category is more fluid than in prior ages. Yes, but rejoice for tomorrow’s savior can swim! Praise be to fluidity! And for this reason, I retire the word “savior” and replace it with: shaman.
Oh fall of man, what has changed? As you exist now (yes, you!), you are but a child to be raised by a future shaman! Come, ye shamans, and heal us with a spirit that again wants to be heard!
Praise be the generation that passed through the deserts of atheism to finally arrive on the other side with faith! I define faith as faith! My creed dodges expression. It’s a fulfillment within! Something is coming, we may not realize it, but something is. Could I be so forward as to say someone?
Do not condemn a child who speaks the language his parents taught, and do not condemn tomorrow’s shamans when they speak the (debased) language of the age. But listen closely—they promise elevation too. For now, they must keep their words low enough to the ground so we can step up upon them. Love speaks down to humanity, as it must, before it lifts us impossibly up!
Oh, but I don’t speak of love without courage. Love without strength is a turning to love out of desperation. Tomorrow’s shamans will choose us as their people despite the fact they could grind us to nothing. Oh materialism, you’ve stripped us of our souls—but did you know how they would regrow? All we needed was a fertilizer! Oh spirit of the age, sometimes your words are low and may even seem to smell—but is that because you’re a fertilizer meant to grow a new soul within us all?