regarding transcendence
look, I’m just joining in and saying it too -
please don’t talk to me about your buddhist oneness, or however you like to label your transcendence, until you can describe to me the contours of your grief. I didn’t say grief in general, I said your grief.
until you can describe to me in detail how your body starts the day, how it weathers the demands of the day, and how you beautifully, skillfully, bring it into a gentle rest at the end of the day. how you moved it the way it needed to move, how you caught its subtle tightening when they said that thing and because you noticed you said the right thing back, how it gave you joy because of how much it saw you cared.
until your face and body stop stiffening when I and the rest of humanity scream and howl their emotions out where you can see them, and, most of all, how well you join in.
until you can tell me about how you let yourself know how much you hated them, before you alchemized it into something else. on that note, until you can describe to me in detail the vast difference between alchemy and moving on too fast, a.k.a. dissociation.
until you stop with all the neutral placidity and dive the fuck on in dammit.
if you’ve got something figured out about the expanse, the all, the Big Everything it all is, I want to feel it when I’m with you. I want my heart to feel lighter, I want to suddenly out of nowhere remember how big love is, I want to be gobsmacked by how dazzlingly vibrant you are. I want to look at you and want to be more like you, or at least be more with you.
if your oneness requires me to fly up out there where you’ve gone to go find it, first of all, I’m not going to, but way more importantly, I really can’t tell you how consequential it is that you left us. and how much we need you to come back, come back, come back to us with all that bright light trailing along behind you or maybe trailing along inside of you where when I look at you, I see it beaming out of your eyes and your fingertips and your enormous heart.