Can't join clubs - okay, well maybe a club of laughing eyes, or eager fingers, or insatiable palates, or lonely hearts.
Categories of people, self-chosen or imposed, are ultimately soft, slight notches in our groove. Hair, color, shape, rhythm, flow, desire, accent - these differences are inhabitable by everyone. We are often stuck on differences or separations, when the membrane is permeable, when the skin is sheddable. My groove runs right into your groove.
(Oh, what cloaks, what skins, I must shed!)
This says nothing about the uniqueness of each place, thing, and moment - the fundamental originality of absolutely everything in carnation.
There's no way to say this right.
I re-watched Jill Bolte Taylor's TED talk - "A Powerful Stroke of Insight" - still the best damn way to describe it all, in this day and age, that I've ever seen and heard - and the best description of mysticism. Here's another, a creation story:
"The lover, then, satiated with the water of life, awoke from the slumber of nonexistence, put on the cloak of being and tied around his brow the turban of contemplation; he cinched the belt of desire about his waist and set forth with the foot of sincerity upon the path of the Search...
Beloved, Love, and the lover - three-in-one.
There is no place for Union here.
So what's this talk of 'separation'?"
- Divine Flashes, Fahkruddin Iraqi
and here's one more, from Moby Dick by Herman Melville:
"Woe to him who seeks to please rather than appall! Woe to him whose good name is more to him that goodness! Woe to him who, in this world, courts not dishonor!"
(Ah, what a relief to be incited toward dishonor, to spurn any and all categories of distinction!)
