Global Capitalism, the Age of Reason, and the Primitive

Beauty is in the object, and it is in beauty that we see through the factual reflection of reality into Being itself.                                                                          Plato

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear as it is — infinite. We’re prisoners of our senses — imprisoned behind the five doors of perception. We can’t see through any others.  William Blake

Those are old ideas, especially Plato (fifth century BC). William Blake lived in the 18th century.

Soren Kierkegaard, much more modern, lived in the 19th century. I keep going back to him, mainly, in order to gain some understanding as to the evolution of human culture. Christianity has played a major, world wide, role and Kierkegaard is known to have been a Christian though he certainly wasn’t your garden variety “Bible thumper”, though he was a minister, stood in th pulpit as such. I can imagine hearing one of his sermons. One wonders whether his philosophical ideas made it into same.

Existential mass, he thought, was the “medium” of architecture and as such was the farthest removed from language. He thought it was the most abstract medium. By this he meant language is the most concrete medium. By medium he meant these were modes of expression, of course. The most abstract “idea”, he thought, was the “sensuous genius” saying it is solely expressible in music because it is music alone that can express an energy, a storm, impatience, passion. And, it exists not in a moment, but in a succession of moments, moving always in an immediacy.

Kierkegaard believed that man’s evolution had somehow gone astray. That is the problem he wrestles with. The idea of concrete versus abstract modes of expression are intended to provide a basis for addressing this issue. He came to be convinced that Christianity through suppression of sensuousness has done the opposite. Now, sensuousness is excluded by Christianity because it is deemed contrary to spirit. This, then, becomes rather the affirmation of sensuousness as a principle power of Reality. This, of course, is not what was intended. But that is what happened. Now, we have a forbidden fruit.

So, to the extent we are bound by Christian ideals; to the extent Christianity has affected all subsequent modes of human behavior this corruption has persisted – in one form or another.

Now, this writer has a quite different view of the religion. While I hold to Kierkegaard’s ideas here there are other ways of understanding the religion if one considers even older religious ideas and possible meaning. Christianity is not, was not, a monolith. Its precursors, its reason for being in the first place, for some, give a completely different outlook on what “else” is going on here. Question is, which meaning survives and has the biggest impact on culture.

The Christian view, and this is certainly not from an esoteric tradition, is that homo sapiens have “dominion over the Earth”. The ideas of Kierkegaard were not those promoted by the church elders, of his or earlier times. Christianity was largely a political movement; its precepts were promoted in order to enhance the power of those who considered themselves as at the top layers of society. So, of course, they chose what to teach, what not to teach with that in mind. They thus corrupted the true meaning of the story of Jesus for their own corrupt purposes.

Dominion over the earth. Now, the Age of Reason, the Industrial Revolution wouldn’t have had the same impact on culture were it not for this underlying notion of man owning the earth. This ego centered movement continues to this day and appears to increasingly influence man’s life, the environment in which he operates. There’s been no abatement of this power we have arrogated to ourselves. Even those who struggle against global capitalism with its sole focus of exploiting people, ever expanding markets, consumerism run rampant, share the same ego-centrism as those who laid down the original bounds of propriety, rules of society.

One ring to bind them all, indeed. The machine only gets stronger. Its hold on us deepens ever more. It scoffs at the pale efforts of the environmentalist missionaries sent out to stem the tide that threatens to engulf every iota of life here and beyond.

Man not only worships the machine but is subsumed by it, is an extension of it happily making true in an interesting way the ancient Hindu precept that one who seeks God finds him in the same form in when he is sought. Like the early Christians we create the God that serves our desires best. For us, now, it is the machine “Hive”.

What is this mystery? Perhaps the alternate lesson tends along the lines of the only way to find the True God is to yield, not be a seeker at all. So mere meek reverence is the best way? One should simply wait (on the Lord). We’d do well to recall another Christian tenet, the forgotten one? “The meek shall inherit the earth.”

For mechanistic man steeped in the auto-phagia of global capitalism, consumerism, this is almost impossible but for the primitive it is the most natural thing in the world because he is close to, one with, nature. The primitive doesn’t own the world but belongs to it. So, the more “progress”, always increasing technological advances, the farther man is from his true self. Our artificiality increases with our absorption into consumerism.

The primitive knowing his soul, knows the soul of the Universe while the mechanistic man often denies even having a soul. And why not? There is no need for a soul if you have the soul of the hive. To have one of your own is mere superstition in that case.

My old teacher, Irwin Lieb, thought, rightly, in my view, that there was only one individual and that was the entire Cosmos. The Hindu notion above dovetails nicely with this. Our individuality is on loan from the True One and thus, so is the individual spirit. Lieb said we are only nominally individuals.

S. C. Gwynne, in his book “Empire of the Summer Moon” writes about the Comanche Indians. Primitives. He has a lament about the forced “repatriation” of one Cynthia Ann Parker who was adopted by her captors and became as they were “literally immersed in this elemental world that never quite left the Stone Age – a world of ceaseless toil, hunger, constant war, and early death. But also of pure magic, of beaver ceremonies and eagle dances, of spirits that inhabited springs, trees, rocks, turtles, and crows; a place where people danced all night and sang bear medicine songs, where wolf medicine made a person invulnerable to bullets, dream visions dictated tribal policy, and ghosts were alive in the wind. On grassy plains and timbered river bottoms from Kansas to Texas, Cynthia Ann – Nautday – had drifted in the mystical cycles of the seasons, living in that random, terrifying, bloody, and intensely alive place where nature and divinity became one.” 

That contrast with the world of the “hive” is electrifying. Finally, I suppose, when our confusion, depravity, depradation, has reached infinity we will reach for a savior again, a messiah, but it will of necessity be a false one for we have long since passed the point from which redemption is even possible. Abandoned to our fate perhaps some might realize then just what the meaning of “My spirit shall not always abide with man.”

Creatrix Singularity – John Hinds

In that eternal darkness the abyss folds in on itself, collapsing infinities of deathly despair, hopelessness, and evil, lifelessness, where we eternally abide alone with our self induced pain, agony. We will have to own that “singularity” which we squandered our lives to reach and it is not going to be pretty after all. If only we recall before its too late what might have been had we taken the opportunity to follow the one true path of humility and selflessness. You know, those primitive notions.

We might see this now if only we weren’t so blinded by our moral relativism, our virtue signaling – a form of evangelism, from that missionary spirit, isn’t it? It says “I am holier than thou” so take heed of my new improved puritanism. It is a crisis of conscience that there is now a universal repugnance in western culture – Christian culture – to condemn anyone’s lifestyle no matter how outrageous. We wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, right? We have given up ownership of any morality whatsoever when we are forced to celebrate deviant behavior, wantonness, because, you know, everything is allowed, therefore  judgment, condemnation of anything at all is to be censured. I’d like to know when we decided that the “elevation of choice over all other human goods” was how we would proceed. This is the “absolutization of autonomy” that now dictates how we react to outrageous behavior. What, I ask, happened to moderation? It is a quantum leap from “tolerance of difference and diversity to the celebration of difference and diversity.” (Quotes from here)

Hope in vain that the societal tendencies providing for this “woke” dystopia will eventually be depleted of their energy and subside. This is a natural extension of “spreading the gospel” as modified by worship of the machine we’ve created to replace God. Wokeness is, then, a kind of theology. It says, for its adherents, “I own the truth” and the truth is whatever I say it is. They are full of certitude, ego-centrism again. They own God, indeed, made him again with their own hands. They believe they have every right to make everyone see the truth as they see it, for their own good, you see. They would annihlate those who oppose them. There’s no humility yet their frustration will eventually manifest as seeking for a leader, a savior; their actions speak to a nascent longing for such. They despair, have the sickness unto death, are filled with self-loathing – that’s why they mutilate themselves. But surely, they’ll never admit their hopelessness is of their own making. It’s always the fault of those who haven’t yet been converted. They seek eternally to transfer their despair to an agency outside their control. They are nihilists in the truest sense.

William Blake – from “Europe, a Prophecy”

Its axiomatic that the fundamental premise underlying the Age of Reason, it’s grossest manifestation, the Industrial Revolution, is that everything can be explained, measured, and ultimately known – eventually. However, this is the opposite of the truth.

That’s why we’ve no sense of belonging as did ancient peoples. We’ve sacrificed our sense of belonging to time, to place, for being a mere extension of the machine God we’ve made. We belong to that ever disappearing over the horizon singularity when knowledge reaches infinitude. No wonder primitives were better adjusted, lived a more fulfilling life. We are totally bereft of Mystery; there simply is no mystery that can’t be solved for those embedded in the Age of Reason and its outcroppings. For our forbears it was all mystery and you accepted this and that acceptance made you complete. Being complete made you happy.

Until the Greeks man was at the complete mercy of the unknown. It was then that Protagoras famously claimed that “man is the measure of all things.” Thus began our estrangement; thus we took the first tentative steps toward being a “stranger in a strange land.” I imagine about the same time we began looking for a savior. Protagoras was a 5th century BC man, So, the bronze age.

So, the way home? We missed it many centuries past and our evolution has surely confounded the absence. There are esoteric teachings. The quote from Blake and Plato above touch these. These are worthy of Jesus and Buddha but while Buddha did talk like this on occasion, Jesus didn’t, at least not as reported in the Christian Bible; it takes a special gift to get to the deeper meanings of the biblical writings. Jesus’ teaching, for the most part, seems tailored for the most common people notwithstanding the presence here and there of the profoundest thoughts on being and meaning and purpose. Jesus was everyman’s Lord. The evolved missionary spirit is a corruption thereof; it’s teaching leads to self loathing, guilt, despair. Fear and trembling are its hallmarks. There’s no exit. Your condemnation owns you yet you would save the world. Better to merely save yourself by taking ownership of same. Instead we intend that global capitalism, progress, will save us as before we intended that reason would. The Spanish conquistadors intended saving the (Comanche) Indians. Now they are as good as gone except for a few dusty old books. I here repeat the notion that has been advanced for millennia that one will appear that will appeal anew to all but that one will not issue from the good. No. It knows that we’ve made a Faustian bargain. That will be taken advantage of in the extreme in what is to come. If we fall for what we have now we’ll clearly fall for anything. In an infinite universe whatever at all is possible will eventuate. Want monsters? We’ll get them without some basis for boundaries.

There is a primitive creature, a worm, whose genes we have mapped. (I can’t find the reference to this but I got it from a talk by Sean Carroll, Astrophysicist.) One gene’s function is to tell the creature “this is my tail – don’t eat it.” Mankind has somehow willfully, blindly,  misplaced that gene. Is this out of malice, ignorance, an agency working through us to promote our self destruction, i.e., evil. I’d be the first to admit I truly do not know, indeed, can’t know. Its as much a mystery to me as the spirit that lives in a spring is for a primitive. I just accept it and try to make do with what’s at hand. That would be understanding, noesis. I’ve given up on knowing a long time past….and, oh yes, I leave it to the divine mystery that actually owns it.

This great mystery in which we find ourselves is not, after all, knowable for it is a mystery to be discovered in the sense that discovery is the action of the unknown. In relinquising ownership of that mystery we come, at last, into our true nature. We own nothing. Its all void, all the way down.  We don’t even own ourselves. We are mere motes in the eye of that which sends us. And yet. And yet! Somehow we give purpose and meaning to the world. Be humble!

Dream not of transcendence. Pure fantasy. Dream rather that “deeds cannot dream what dreams can do—time is a tree (this life one leaf).”

Denis de Rougemont “Love in the Western World”

Emotional in the sense an agenda is in control. I don’t know at this time whether he is promoting any particular point of view; whether it be Christian, which I suspect, or paganism. He alludes to but I don’t think he embraces Hinduism, Buddhism, Yoga, the issues of the Mahabharata, or for that matter Manicheanism, Gnosticism, Platonism and several others. He does seem anxious to resolve the “stresses” into a “grand unified theory” subsuming all opposing spirits. He seems to write knowing the conclusion is foreordained, thus making his purpose suspect.

We argue the known outcome in order to have something to say! Noise! “Sound and fury signifying nothing.” Which is not to say his scholarship is not of the highest order of professionalism.

But anyhow, its hard to ignore the comparison of this work to Kierkegaard’s. An audacious question: Is Tristan and Iseult (the opera) to Rougemont as Don Giovanni was to Soren Kierkegaard?

On Good/Evil he assigns human agency, the Christian view. This is common practice and, in my opinion, a fallacy. Personhood does not necessarily pertain to the divine or the profane but is a reflection that man only understands, or rather, has knowledge of himself so God and Satan must be measured in terms thereof. Its simpler to accept Reality evolved to the world we see, are embedded in and will ever remain a mystery that, also ever, engenders discovery. Why must there be agency at all? Sure Good and Evil are real even without the “myths” adopted in order that we can easily grasp them on familiar terms. It is not necessary that understanding follows always from measurement in terms of human metrics. To do so merely reinforces the fact that man is self absorbed, self centered and not interested in Truth in and of itself. Divinity is not “personal” [to a God Head]. Divinity is universal, not finite but infinite. A Lord, The Lord, taking on the cloak of divinity is leaving the “person” aside and assuming the infinite quality of the divine in the same way a rose assumes the infinite quality of beauty. It is full self-realization.

Again, the rose is not itself beauty but beautiful. Rather it participates in, is a manifestation of beauty. Likewise things manifest are not the universe itself, but the universe, the Real – G_d, if you like – is made manifest in them. Divinity is thus made manifest in [all] man, sentient life forms especially. The Word is made flesh and Life is a tool in his box.

How long must we mistake measurement for understanding?

Personal Observations on Desani’s Piece “A MARGINAL COMMENT ON THE PROBLEM OF MEDIUM IN BICULTURES”

“Oh, how sweet to be alive! How good to be alive and to love life! Oh the ever-present longing to thank life, thank existence itself, to thank them as one being to another being.

“This was exactly what Lara was. You could not communicate with life and existence, but she was their representative, their expression, in her the inarticulate principle of existence became sensitive and capable of speech.”

Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago, Copyright 1958, Pantheon Books, Inc., New York, page 325

“….reality takes shape in memory alone….”

“…it yet belonged to an order of supernatural beings whom we have never seen, but whom, in spite of that, we recognize and acclaim with rapture when some explorer of the unseen contrives to coax one forth, to bring it down, from that divine world to which he has access, to shine for a brief moment in the firmament of ours.”

“We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves…[The lives you admire] …having been influenced by everything evil or common-place that prevailed round about them…represent a struggle and a victory.”

Marcel Proust, Remembrance of things Past, Vol. I, Vintage Books, September, 1982 pps 201, 381, 923-924

This piece by Desani describes his personal struggle reflected in the creation of his literary works Hatterr and Hali. He uses himself as an example to elucidate all literary creation and its combination into human cultural traditions and propagation across varying, disparate, societies. The opening quotes are different ways of stating points he raises in his essay by literary geniuses who, I think, draw from the same reservoir.

He writes that “Literature is life-histories, a response by individuals to life, to love and hate, and both the makers and the readers need to have, from individual experience and formed habits (cultural involvement), the capacity to move and be moved.” Quoting William Butler Yeats he says ” …I think profound philosophy comes from terror. An abyss opens under our feet… whether we will or not, we must ask the ancient questions: Is there a Reality anywhere? Is there…God? Is there a Soul?

Proust writes “…reality takes shape in memory alone…” Desani says this another way: “Inspiration arises from consciousness…as a reservoir of memories.” He goes on to say “Art, for all the explaining, is a mystery: and original imageries, for all the exploring, the greater mystery.” So, we do not receive high Art but discover it for ourselves in a continuous struggle that becomes a victory.

His Hali, he says, rejects “…an impersonal, amoral, indescribable, unknowable, all and nothing, a loveless, godless abstraction [called the atma].” Hali’s was a “…God of of Love and Beauty, and it was from fulfillment, not defeat, that he willingly surrendered his life.”

Pasternak wants to, and succeeds, in communicating with Being itself, when he realizes that his Lara is The Real made flesh. Desani has Hali write that he would “…seek still, seek a thing of glory…and see what no mortal ever saw before, a vision of such enchanting awful beauty, that a mortal would die! [To behold which as a mortal would mean death.] “He found his vision in a human, his Rooh, of whom he said ‘…the God I prayed to was not holier than thou, none holier, none! …Garland wert thou, the garland of God, to seek which I sought a temple, and thee I found!’

This writer believes “there is an order of supernatural beings whom we have never seen, but whom, in spite of that, we recognize and acclaim with rapture when some explorer of the unseen contrives to coax one forth, to bring it down, from that divine world to which he has access, to shine for a brief moment in the firmament of ours.” Professor Desani does that in this little essay, and indeed, in all his writings, in his life, in our memory of him.

Todd Katz hosts this essay at this link. I’ve also linked to it here at Desni.net

Silence or Kaivalya

I couldn’t be more alone if I were the entire Universe.

One needs a lifetime to let that sink in.

And this: You come before your maker in humility. Satan argues with God. [Is it true that “Israel(ite)” means, translates as, one who does battle with the Deity (G_d)?]

And this: For every flower of love and charity he plants in his neighbor’s garden, a loathsome weed will disappear from his own, and so this garden of the gods – Humanity – shall blossom as a rose

It was Plotinus who said man’s existence and search for meaning and truth was the “flight of the alone to the alone”. This reminds me of a similar line from T.S. Eliot’s Little Gidding, “…the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”. So, to be a fully self realized person, it happens, requires a kind of mystical vision, is a mystical union.

The “One” of the ancient Greek Philosophers, of Plato, does not have existence in itself. Rather, it is that from which being emanates and though immanent in the Platonic Forms, necessarily has no separation and thus no being in itself. Being requires separation, requires temporality, requires dimensions. The One is eternal, not temporal, non-dimensional. And, it is not a noun, a thing, a person, a place. It is verbal. Realizing this requires the knower join with the known as knowing itself, again, in a kind of mystical union. [Its not a noun, its a verb.]

Tricky language. Language of poetry and philosophy are similar. They take the Soul to a precipice. You must make the leap….or not.  Afterwards how you got to the jumping off place is irrelevant. All that matters is you took the risk.

Cold, lonely, indifferent. Void. Silence. The Alone. There’s “No Exit”. That is the dark side. Don’t give in to that aspect. Yet, according to Buddhism, realizing “enlightenment” is to achieve the profoundest Silence called Kaivalya or Kaivalyam. This “Silence” can’t be explained, must be “experienced” yet is beyond experience. To see an image of the Buddha sitting in meditation gives a hint at the procedure. Words are worthless, an impediment.

But, only when you realize you are already there do you arrive. Mystical union, indeed. The banks of the river widen as you approach the ocean and ultimately embrace that with which they merge. Life is that river. Physical form is like the receding banks, yielding life to its origin.

This type of contemplation is intended, necessary, for us to shed our dualistic nature. It is, of course, seen as nonsense by most. I get that, but the effect is a cessation of our natural tendency to want to grasp, to “own” Truth, Love. Truth is transfigured through Love and Beauty. By Liberation one can see right through Beauty and/or Love to the Real itself, to Truth.

I don’t think satori, enlightenment, salvation, nirvana (nibbana) actually  lead to transcendence. The soul does not reach these after an actual journey. They are ours by Faith. Have Faith and “all these things will be added unto you”. For these are gifts, not attainments, for those who have found the path of Bhakti, Love of the Lord. It is our sacred duty to simply wait on the Lord.

It is the Flight of the Alone to the Alone.

Evolution of History

Some thoughts provoked by Daniel Boorstin*, his chapter on evolution of history.

I am rather inclined to think that there is only one absolute truth, the conditio sine qua non, though infinite approaches to that truth are possible. These approaches are mere artifacts, and this is Boorstin, “shards” of mental pottery, transient vessels of aspiration for the “Truth”. Therefore, knowledge is not constant or immutable, but ephemeral, as dew on the rose. Knowledge is a mere contemporary of its zeitgeist. It paints the way, yes, but soon along that way, there will be newer signs appropriate to new contemporaries.

Sum

When there are no clouds
the sun shines-

Is that drinking tea from an empty cup?

All historians, indeed, all artists, theologians, and scientists, sate themselves on the contents of an empty vessel. I agree with R. G. Collingwood that only philosophy, of all man’s endeavors, categories of being, Stages on Life’s Way**, provides the framework wherein its practitioners can come to see that true understanding springs from the consciousness that returns on itself. Release the dichotomies! One simply cannot be brought out of darkness into light because darkness and light are in an interesting way the same thing.

So! Jews were never brought out of Egyptian slavery into the promised land. This historical/mythological paradigm of Christian salvation, coming out of the evils of the flesh into the salvation of the spirit, is one dichotomy. Christians are never “saved” from their sins by virtue of one defining moment in history. Similarly workers never free themselves, by whatever device, be it collective bargaining or revolution, from bondage to the controllers of the machine apparatus of production. And don’t fail to note the “self similarity” of the two historical trends of Christianity and Marxism touched on here. (One is a fractal of the other.) Freedom, individuality, independence are a simple turn of the mind away for one and all. A gymnastic juggernaut is not required. Living through a hellish history based on false myths of original sin is not requisite. See that art, religion, science, history are mere preparations of the mind for philosophy. Philosophy is the culmination of the journey past or through these signposts. Their modes of consciousness are directed out from itself. Philosophy is man’s consciousness turned back on its origin. That turn of the mind is a requisite of true understanding.

Collingwood’s Speculum Mentis lays out this idea that the first signpost, Art, is expressive of the aspiration for beauty and is a search for, a longing for, the “other”, that which is lacking. But is it really? In what respect would we lose our identity in blissful union? Isn’t annihilation already and always there in that empty cup? Religion posits absolute reality in an absolute other. History posits its goal in a distant future to be achieved through evolution. The faith of science is that measurement of infinity is achievable and mistakenly conflates knowledge with understanding. All are instances of the attempt of the soul to go beyond itself, of the urge to see reality as greater than it is.

There are, of course, many other considerations some of which I have addressed previously in this space. Beauty, truth, liberty, love, and similar attributes of consciousness are, besides what I say here, I believe, facets of a divine being and are in a sense also spirits in themselves in that “their” being is added to, enhanced somehow by participation in them of sentient life. The principles grow by being called on and their luminescence increases through this use. It also bears repeating that existential mass embodies these principles as potentialities that emerge, so to speak, in the presence of sentient life. Our consciousness directed in these categories is fertile soil for the growth of these spirits. Thus it is that God has commerce with creation. Thus it is that God has self experience. For what other purpose could there be for making this being? I am here at the cusp of projecting, I see, my human nature on the cosmos. This is a conundrum that recurs throughout history. My answer is that I am the cosmos in a sense, so this projection is of the cosmos onto itself. Keeping all the caveats mentioned here and elsewhere in mind, that is how I am able to be confident in my appraisal.

*The Discoverers
**Soren Kierkegaard

Old Flames

I don’t think this is going to work the way I would like. Usually when I come here I have a fairly clear idea of what I want to write but today I have only the need to write. I am patient though, and will dwell here a little to see what happens. There is plenty to say but I just don’t know how to do it this time. I am not confused. I am overwhelmed. Life is so full of so many myriads of experiences and all need to be put to words. Doing so not only is an affirmation of those events it is also a validation and a way to immortality. Sort of. It is like having children and knowing with certainty that you live on in them and in those of their issue forever.

The landscape of my dilemma is vast and presents itself like a white dove fluttering in the featureless void. This is what I feel like. I pull back from the abyss, or I am pulled back by fate. Invisible strings? Fruits of intention? Answers to fervent petitions to a personal deity? I don’t know but it is certainly true that whatever your intention or petition the response when it comes will be rife with complexities unanticipated. Life is above all a kind of fractal. Recall E.E. Cummings, “Deeds can’t dream what dreams can do.” Knowing this, that discovery is the action of the unknown, vulnerability is my natural state. Risk is almost a metaphysical category in my life so I trust instinctively, and love. This is something I have long cultivated. Yet at this juncture there are no paths and I must pick my way carefully. Not that there ever were, though I imagined them. Here is a generous spirit, an incomparable beauty, and compelling desire but these are understood. Not as a measurement, not as something known, but as something intimately owned. A part of me that is a part of another, truly an apotheosis. Yet, it is an expression only begun, a running, tripping, headlong rush through the void. That plummeting, fluttering white dove suspended in darkness, no place to rest, find completion, no twig to grasp, none, nowhere. So vulnerable. So helpless.

We make our own light here in this fastness of the soul. I would shine and thus show a path for others but how to make a path through the abyss? What are the signposts? The dove? No, that is an aspect of spirit. Love? I think love is more. This is it. Love is a lot more. It is, in fact, the void itself. The abyss unrecognized. The unfathomable void. If someone asks you what you mean by love tell them that love is meaning capable of filling any emptiness whatsoever. Even if that emptiness is the whole cosmos. And with that the circle is completed and Beauty and Truth with Love shine like facets of the same jewel and their light penetrates any darkness whatsoever, any darkness anywhere. To be open to this is to share in everlasting, eternal joy and to make another see this is even greater because it is in reality the divine spark finding and kindling anew eternal fire, fire that burns everywhere and consumes everything. It is the annihilation we so earnestly desire, to be lost in the other. So, yes, I have looked into eyes and realized while I was falling, a white dove fluttering, that the darkness in the midst of our eyes was the same place, that we were one and the darkness is also the light universal, centered everywhere, bounded nowhere, an infinity to be discovered, not a mystery to be unraveled. I don’t want to know. I want to always be on the cusp of the new, discovering roads untrodden, lighting the way on an eternal journey. So, yes, I have and still do love. The words come easy. So right. So easy. “I love you.” Go tell someone in words, in deeds, even with a soulful look into their eyes, and if they ask what you mean, and that is natural, they are asking for what is said here. Choose your words carefully after a close reading of your hearts and the meaning they convey will be near the truth here expressed.