There is a crack . . . in everything
I could shatter into a thousand shards of optimism right now. I'm tempted to freewrite and just bash my thoughts out onto the page, but I'm intentionally taking a very measured and paced approach. I felt I had to play it safe for a very long time, and it's been almost a year since my revelation that I don't. I simply don't. I'm cautious and careful (afraid), but opening up . . .
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering
So let's have an ordered chaos about all this. Let's discuss historical cosmology through the lens of fantasy roleplaying, the uses of Tonglen meditation for opening cracks in solid rock, etymologies of spirit and breath through religious traditions, and recursive labyrinths of language and space. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement on the chronotope, whether we get there through Baktun, Borges, or Mr. Rogers.
But first, let's take a look at the future. We can make a plan, but first we have to discuss who we are. Why we're “we.” I don't really know, to be honest. It's something I've been noticing for a long time now, and I'm never quite sure how to think about it. It's inconsistent, but I don't know the rules. I know that when I'm speaking to myself, I speak as though it's to a different person, maybe sometimes multiple people. I say, “Okay, let's get motivated,” or “We're going to meditate first and write later.” There is at least one other person inside my head, probably more. I've never tracked down who they are, but I suspect they're important. I suspect they're who I'm writing to now.
I'm starting to see the cracks in the facades, and I'm remembering that this isn't how it's always been. The rock is not solid, and there are only false limitations. I don't think I can fly (yet) or move things with my mind (yet), but I'm regaining the ability to see outside my tunnel. I'm not shifting into other worlds, but I'm catching fleeting glimpses with fascinating, tantalizing regularity. I think things are beginning again . . .
And I keep thinking of a quote I read recently: The magic you're seeking is in the work you're avoiding. and I'm really starting to grok it. It applies to work, but it really applies to work.
More later, but let me leave you with some words from the immortal Leonard Cohen:
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That's how the light gets in