I feel as if my intuition is that of the universe's, and I feel that I am unraveling it slowly. What I mean to say is, I feel that I am growing in my capacity to intuit.
I notion now, instead of feel, that this is because of paradoxical phenomenon I observe.
Surrender to obtain.
Orange-red sand through your fingers. But in a way that now sleeps the whole desert between your toes.
The cognition and the ego, creating static in the carpet shuffle of the analytic life. Why? Look up and breathe without thought for awhile; it is from up there that lightning comes.
I am brought to a state of syrup sweet delirium when I watch trees dance in the wind on Hogwarts thee Second Universe-ity. And everywhere, really. The notions are gone, of maniac or of saniac...
it doesn't matter anymore, the labels, the value-judgements. I am more entranced by things that be.
Like birds, dragonflies and the black-and-orange bug that pooped on my thumb in the art quad today.
Things that be. Things that be-come. Todos, all of it. And we are so lucky to be surrounded by and inside and outside of a great teacher, the greatest teacher. . .
The answer belongs to breath and thoughtlessness.
And always, remember, to laugh.
 | ||
| Said defecating bug, Sir Poopy Thorax; A Multicolored Asian Lady Beetle Larva | (so cute!) |
I am awfully greedy; I want everything from
life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to
have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy
myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish.
— Simone de Beauvoir
There is nothing more tedious, puerile, and inhumane than love; yet it is also beautiful and necessary.
— Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse
LOVE.
M .A. R
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