Thursday, October 20, 2016
My friends are all amused and even delighted that this old bitter, selfish cynic could find love at the end of a mostly pointless existence. I am the most surprised of all; I had assumed that this was the way it ended; that I just become more and more asexual/single/masturbatory until one day a tube/valve/transistor in my brain ruptures and shows me the picture above, which is certainly how my 'tunnel of light' will look like if I have any say in the matter.
What I find most amusing is all the curious inquiries about the particulars of the matter: how old, where from, what does she look like, what does she do, etc, etc. These ceaseless questions do not make me tired, but merely reflective. None of these things matter to me, nor that she is already in a relationship in a home to which she will return soon. What matters to me is that she is my Goddess and that I have rediscovered religion. What matters is that she is here/now and forcing me to be here/now which is the only true religion, that she has opened doors for me that I could never have imagined exist, that she effortlessly lifted boulders that I couldn't see had me pinned down by the wings, and that yes, I have wings!
So she will go away, and come back or not. She will either become Us, or not, I am not pinning all my hopes and salvation on particulars, of course in the real world there are a million objections to the practical side of things. And of course revolution is always followed by a difficult and imperfect period of government, like relationships must follow falling in love. But I think part of our mistake is in putting too much emphasis on falling in love as a means to an end instead of the end itself. Neither she nor I would waste too much energy on a relationship that was not fruitful and parallel to our own spiritual development, and I think that is what she has awakened most in me; not just that there exists another person like me , who makes me feel un special in a special way (accepts my eccentricities as if they are necessary preconditions), but that the world is full of wonder and beauty waiting to be appreciated.
So this is the first chapter, and there does not need to be any further writing in this book, as far as I am concerned. Winter and its hardships will come, I will survive (or not), but no longer will I be a wayfarer by accident, without eyes in a field of flowers.