Le paradis n'est pas artificiel …

October 19, 2005

notebook draft: 30 seconds of writing on consciousness

What a thing it would be to slide in between the all and the one -- to some place of absolute being and absence, without loss of either attachment or detachment; to be able to grasp close to the great machine yet still see its greatness. What might the mind see, fallen outside of its furrow of logic? Beyond its focus on just the swell and dip of strands in the infinite knot of life, and all that gorgeous inadequacy of reason off which it survives, reinventing reality in every tiny sequence between blinks? There is some place I desire to be, absurdly, between the all and the one -- but what being is that? A flower content upon the riverbank, determined not to root into the soil; or, to build a stone fortress of one's self and drop a match onto the world outside? Is this not living one's own death -- is that the goal?

"I too am unattached. but if one is enlightened
that's another illusion."

-Willis Barnstone, "In a Bejing Monastery"

Posted by Delire at October 19, 2005 08:43 PM
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