The Following is a comment received by the author. Response follows.
lovely boy of this dark blogridden night. enlighten me.
January 25, 2008 2:45 AM
Well…enlightenment is a word that carries various and sundry unpleasant connotations and tends to smack of all that useless drivel that flows so easily out of the “East.” But far be it from me to cast aspersions on anyone’s belief in what the “mystics” laid down fully so long ago. In the never-ending search for Truth it’s always wiser to turn the rocks over. You will often find a snake but chances are that you won’t actually get bitten. And so, more out of habit than anything else, I’ll just mention the first Noble Truth of the Buddha: “Desire is the cause of all dukkha (suffering).”
The irony is that the “enlightened” mind is cursed by the fact that the very nature of this supposed enlightenment is that it gives one the nearly supernatural ability to gain “clarity.”
And so in seeking it only seems natural that you will expect to find. I’ve never been too certain at what level aromas may come into play when it comes to seeing clearly. But life has proven to be very compartmentalized and fragmentary.
The poetic strands lay out an aesthetic that is hard to ignore. As I recall it, glazed eyes speak to a symbolism that leaves little room for doubt. Seeing the outlines only recalls to my mind the Allegory of the Cave and I still find myself jumping at emotional shadows. The Dark is where the mystery lives and to shed light on a thing just to see what it is removes the wisdom from any transaction. Emotional Commerce; yes. It’s the exchange that counts; the price can always be negotiated. These are the words I was looking for.
What good is the night if you can’t see the stars? And if you’re in the middle of it…well, it’s equidistant from there either to the beginning or the end and it matters less and less as time goes by which path you seek. But it’s the seeking that concerns us here.
The night moves to its own strange rhythms and I strain always to hear them but it still strikes me odd that most of the people out there are deaf to them and march to the beat of a drum that I will never hear. So dance barefoot under the moonlight and kiss the warm winds of summer nights on the grass. So listen to the trees. And if you can’t find a tall stand of pines to interpret the wind for you…seek passage at once to place where they reach for the breeze and teeter and creak on the verge of breaking. That is the Edge we hear about so often. It is the line between love and hate; between sanity and madness; between Here and There; between lost and found, the Soul lives there and whispered words across bare skin in the dark will relate the direction you need to take to find it. Laughter is the password but it is hidden in shadow and buried in sighs. And the very act of searching it out only portends its eventual loss. It is the Realm of the Meaning of Things.