a personal im-pression, experience, loneliness: we are all so hurt, we may find peace in ourselves but not with others very easily or very often at all. we cannot hurt make un-happened, but when we are alone we can transform it in our loneliness. when we meet, we may feel well with each other, but we are constantly aware of the other as a possible enemy, as somebody who can hurt us or disturb our presence. we see the clouds, and we fight them. me, i find it very hard to walk out of my cloud as well as to see through the cloud of a woman i love. when she cannot come near to me i want to hide in my cloud and paint it black. i drop out of presence... between man and woman, when we love, often we try to fight love itself. it is as if loving takes too much of our strength, but it cannot. This is difficult to see. and as we are, we will always again desire fusion as we will always again desire death. It is the same. In another view, death and life are the same. to let go and to be alive is one and the same. we experience and long for the stranger, the mystery of the other person who is the other half of our self and the same as our not-self. we want to feel well and at home together, but as long as we are alive there is the 'babble' between us, the continuity of misunderstanding not only in languages but in words and even in deeds. Man and woman cannot heal each other but meet and in sharing their joy, grace and warmth as well as their hurt, sadness and anger they must change and grow and answer the continuous challenge of another spirit and travel, moment for moment. Only being conscient and aware of this challenge they can touch their souls ,look into the mirror and find consolation. I don't know if i can do this. It is hard work at times, to be honest. I don't want anything , and though i am filled with longing to be embraced and at home, i am not free of fear. I fear myself and my reactions to being hurt. The memory of pain is stronger than any other memory born out of the instinct for survival. To walk out of this is the most difficult part, for me.
Alan Watts, quotes:
“Problems that remain persistently insoluble should always be suspected as questions asked in the wrong way” "Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone."
“Only words and conventions can isolate us from the entirely undefinable something which is everything.”
“We do not “come into” this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree.”
Sometimes I forget completely what companionship is. Unconscious and insane, I spill sad energy everywhere. My story gets told in various ways: a romance, a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.
Divide up my forgetfulness to any number, it will go around. These dark suggestions that I follow, are they a part of some plan? Friends, be careful. Don't come near me out of curiosity, or sympathy.