||[Jun. 26th, 2011|02:57 am]
I roll between categories. This is not my wish, but my will; I defy continuous classification even to myself, and this seldom bothers me save when it truly disturbs others (and in such cases I either provoke, ignore, or clarify as best I can). It's too much to stay still long enough to be understandable to any conscious mind. Described, but never declined as one might decline a series of verb tenses.|
The grammar is distinguishable only in the past tense.
I look backwards on the synergy that has been ascribed (attained) to my understanding, and I wonder: how could this be? I see scraps and bits, but never wholes or truths that are universal. Everything I seem to understand, however limited, seems to work for me, but I can't fathom how to do anything for others but point to the words and say, "No, not with your eyes: with your will, your kharma-in-motion. Use it against itself, the bowstring that becomes taut and propels itself higher and higher until you reach the point where there is no propelling-to, and no propelling-from." Someday I think I might attain such a place myself, because I know I amn't there.
Am I chasing nirvana? Am I chasing revelation? It's too narrow to see. The line doesn't divide, it blurs between things, and all that's left is the reminder: chop wood, carry water. THAT can be my revelation, if I'm ready for it.
What a burden!
What a marvel!