I am waking up to the sound of sandhill cranes and red-winged blackbirds these days, their voices drunk with the beauty and verdancy of spring. As the snow melts and all of us here--animal, human and plant-- begin to awaken from our somnambulistic state, it is impossible not to feel inspired and compelled by the sensation of potential evident in everything.
Entelechy is about this experience of potential exactly. About seeing and trusting, even amidst the rubble of a dark and spiritually bereft state of being (akin to a long canadian winter or the current sociological climate), that we hold within us the possibility of perfection in our individual state.
To see that spring was always waiting patiently underneath the snow, quietly anticipating the day when the world would welcome it back, just as human potential exists with the same tenacity, relentlessly present no matter what kind of nonsense we cover it up with.
This is also about seeing that life is not a process of external creation any more than we can say the sun is entirely responsible for the life that bursts forth from the trees in April. We cannot 'create' ourselves in the outside world as defined by our physical appearance, jobs, relationships and society. These are fleeting and inconsequential concepts when faced with the enormous beauty of our true state, and of what can be expressed and experienced when the world around us nurtures our potential, just like the sunshine in spring.