We have, the song said, all been here before.
Yet, everything is happening for the first time.
As in the religious story: The stone is being rolled away. Many wish to say the resurrection was a once and forever historical event. Today, here, at this blink of awareness, the stone is "being" itself rolling away.
Rolling away what? From where?
History disappears.
There is only myth -- story -- which begins, "In the beginning..." and concludes, "Ever after."
But what if there really is only origin? And never conclusion? Only being itself? And that, withdrawing, dropping into emptiness? Would there be found each thing as itself?
The stone is, being, rolled away.
This life is a cave, a tomb to some, enclosing and stifling. Yet, to others, this life is a sunny breeze ascending a sweet mountain.
The mind of Christ is emptying itself. It is being emptied of all that is not itself, which is itself being emptied.
What remains?
What is there is what is here and everywhere.
Think of the resurrection as the kenotic (self-emptying) mind which is beyond birth and death.
Until such is our aware home-ground, we slog along, hastily, with busy hands, continuously readying our demise, toward our going, our being rolled away.
We're meant to...go.
let it go - the
smashed word broken
open vow or
the oath cracked length
wise - let it go it
was sworn to
go
let them go - the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers - you must let them go they
were born
to go
let all go - the
big small middling
tall bigger really
the biggest and all
things - let all go
dear
so comes love
(~ e. e. cummings ~ Complete Poems 1904-1962)
I have nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No-one to be.
So, what's my hurry? The season of careful looking is upon us.
Festina lente!
... Note:
[Festina lente or σπεῦδε βραδέως (speude bradeos) is a classical adage and oxymoron meaning "make haste slowly" or "more haste, less speed".]
