S1, EP4 - Sick as Secrets

open the door. listen. white noise. a soup of potentiality. a residue of memory. a pregnant pause of actuality. I want it. to see. I want it. the practice of the understanding that there is never any reason to worry. Samadhi. Equal on all sides. Playtime. Lila wonders. Cohesion of all things as synergistic harmony.

I love you. I love the pain. I love what it implies, as the dark implies the light and night implies day. I love clarity and vision. And ex wives. I love terrible choices as guides to new possibilities. I love the sewage it took to grow out of it. I love that the foulness creates the lotus.

I don’t love when I am not there. Pushing. Forcing. Coercing. I don’t love not loving my Self. Yoga came to me and I felt God, and I love it. Always safe, even in danger. In recognition, I am allowed to see that I build worlds. In denial, I see I am a victim, and the world is coming at me. I yearn. Do you yearn, Kramer?

What’s wrong with creating your own world? There is power in attention. Maybe more powerful than love? Or is attention and love the same thing? As what it is given to is manifested. I give attention to receptivity.

The intention is to love, be love itself. The action is to listen. I cannot find much not to love. Even the incredible stupidity of the human species is exhilarating. Because I feel I am just a percentage point away from being the object of my own ridicule.

A scratchy mid 60’s woman in a white Infinity SUV was taking a left in front of me. Her window open, she took one last drag of her cigarette and tossed the butt out the window, like it was 1973.

Me? Even though it has been sometime since I smoked a whole cigarette - I would have grappled with such a choice of disposal. I would have thrown it out the window just to keep my car from stinking. But I don’t think I wouldn’t have been so public about it.

Knowing that we are as sick as our secrets would have been enough to keep me from smoking in the first place. If I smoked, I would have left no trace. I laughed out loud - with her - envious of her blatant carelessness, or who knows, open defiance? I hope she is happy.