We Have No Idea

What prisons have I walked, eaten, spoken, slept with — invisible mind patterns that were fed to me early, inuring me to a prevailing social order?

What boxes have I safely tucked myself into, not even knowing they were boxes; not even knowing that the limits of their walls were causing such tormented constriction, such self-degradation and subtle self-denial?

How deeply has my colonization been buried, leagues beneath my awareness? Where do the shadowy whisperings of Original Sin still live in me, even as I decry the very idea?

 Ahhh . . . they make themselves known in all the many ways I have contracted or lashed out or made myself so small that I couldn’t breathe. The ways I lorded over others. The ways I felt I was a bad person. The ways I couldn’t see or feel others. The ways I felt like shit and had to blame someone and myself for it.

 * * *

When everything falls apart, let it disintegrate.

Let’s give up making stories about who did what and why — give up taking any position at all. 

Any position at all. 

We have no idea.

 * * *

Now.

What is this wave I feel swelling in my body — a response to Beauty, to the wild and untamed world as it simply IS;

A voluptuous impulse to create wildness again and again, in a form never known before, without limit;

A ripple of deep, quivering pleasure at a possibility, a naked hope, beyond the boundaries?

You see, I am not alone. Everything pierces me and dazzles my soul. The eyes of another are an infinite ocean.

* * *

You were made to open to Life, to surrender into trust, to let it penetrate you as the moon penetrates and fills a dewdrop. Our bodies know how to feel so deeply, into infinity, if we can cast off our shrouded limits — lovingly, slowly, deliciously, and always in communion —

And allow ourselves be conquered by our own aliveness.