The state of wokeness
It was pitch dark save for the lights in the gas station and the adjacent convenience store where we were parked. It felt strange, like we were floating aimlessly in a starless galaxy, and the gas station the lone planet in space. Actually, we were on a long road trip from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh in Cambodia. Somewhere in between, we paused for a toilet break. Thank God for this gas station.
With us on our trip were a number of Buddhist monks, who were walking around barefoot while taking in the cold fresh air. Their bright orange robes made stark contrasting shapes against the dark background. There was a sense of serenity around them. But I guess people traveling at 3 in the morning will have that aura about them.
A day before I left home, I was reading Eckhart Tolle’s “A New Earth,” which has earned membership in Oprah’s Book Club. I couldn’t help but remember the book’s bright orange cover, seeing the bright robes of these young monks. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think of the spirituality of Tolle’s work, which is about awakening and the consciousness—in other words, about the state of being woke.
It is strange, or so it seems, how casually the word “woke” has been evoked in popular culture lately. Artists use it to describe their works, the internet ranks a user’s level of wokeness, and debates have sparked over its true definition.
Just as suddenly, people have used “woke” to describe themselves. Myself included. There has never been a more acceptable means to promote oneself as being socially and politically aware, especially in today’s polarizing atmosphere. Keeping our eyes open on social issues has become cool again.
If Hollywood and the internet have decided to be awakened, it isn’t a surprise that Mother Nature might agree as well. Our current state of affairs has not only altered our psychology, it may also have altered the physical world, too. In 2014, there was a reported spike in the Schumann Resonance from the stable 7.83 Hz to around 15-25 Hz. In early 2017, however, the Schumann Resonance was reported to have reached the 36+ Hz levels. That is quite a big deal, even to someone who has not heard of the Schumann Resonance before.
The Schumann Resonance, named after Prof. W.O. Schumann, is a term used to describe the measurement of electromagnetic waves in the space between the surface of the earth and the ionosphere. For a very long time, the Schumann Resonance has been at 7.83 Hz with slight variations.
The ancient Indian Rishis referred to 7.83 Hz as OHM, described as the heartbeat of the planet, and associated with “a neutral idling state,” according to Dr. Kathy Forti. The level of 12-15 Hz is marked by a lack of focused attention. As the frequency increases, so does humanity’s consciousness and ultimately its awareness. If the current spike to 36+ Hz in resonance is to be believed, then that probably explains why time feels faster, anxiety is steeper, and passion burns brighter. But so are we more conscious and more aware. Yet the Heartmath Institute has disputed these claims, saying, “We can evolve without Schumann Resonances making a crazy jump.”
In that dark night, with only the fluorescent lights as my source of familiarity, I thought of home and remembered the short attention span of my generation, the impassioned vitriol in social media, the string of deadlines passing like a blur faster than this bus ride, and the trend of wokeness. Across the starless skies and the darkness far beyond the reach of the familiar, I thought of the Schumann Resonance. I shook my hands a little, thinking it might cause a ripple. A monk looked at me quizzically.
The engine started and the bus door opened with its familiar whooshing sound. I felt the darkness enveloping us as we moved on. I didn’t feel the resonance but I felt awakened, like a monk. Resonance or no resonance, trendy or not, humanity will benefit from more woke humans. Tolle writes that to be unawakened is to be unconscious—that is, to be numb or to be dead. For all its worth, our state of wokeness may be humanity’s only insurance of survival.
