•  
  • Listen to today’s talk
    Consciousness (I)
  •  
  •  

“The Amazing Grain of Sand”. Sand Dune

By Victoria Adamson

We are all but grains of sand in a vast sand dune in a vast desert.
A grain of sand does not take its value from its position in the dune.
A grain on the summit is no more a grain than one buried in the base.
A grain is still a grain if it sits on the surface of the dune’s slope, hidden behind three other grains or three thousand.

It is still a grain of sand. It is still part of the dune. It is still part of the desert.

Without the grains of sand there is no dune, no desert.

A grain at the peak of the dune in an instant may roll down its side to lie in the valley.
The wind blows away grains on the slopes to reveal ones previously hidden inside.
Still, a grain is just a grain.

Some grains were once part of a huge granite mountain.
Some grains were flakes of sea bed sandstone.
Some grains were flows of molten lava.
Some grains were chips of space travelling meteorites.
All grains sit side by side in the dune, in the desert, merely being grains of sand — for now —
until they wear each other away to dust, then atoms.
Even then, they are no less important.
They provide the fabric of existence within and around the dune, within and around the desert.

A grain of sand does not worry about its true nature.
It does not suffer from a desire to stay stationary — or be paler, or lighter.
A grain just exists, understanding its position, knowing its value, accepting change.

We look at a vast desert with awe. We see the beauty of the rolling dunes.
We are fascinated by the flowing and sometimes violent movement of the sand.
But we rarely acknowledge the grains. We rarely see their beauty.
Hard yet fluid, jewel-like, yet dull from a distance.
Sharp when whipped by the wind, yet soft when lying still.
Individual and unique, yet common by definition.
Never stop appreciating the majesty of the desert.
Never stop admiring the elegance of the dunes.
But next time, take time to see the wonder of the grain.

Comments

Tim Surtell
Website Developer and Archivist
tim.surtell@beingtrulyhuman.org

© 1959–2022 Being Truly Human