Light Connections 4
Art by Norman E. Masters
I believe our minds and psyches cycle too. Day and night do. The seasons do. Life and death do. Why shouldn't we? Rejoice when Kali is dancing in your mind! It feels destructive and disorienting, but oh the phoenix that arises!
Our words go out like sperm. Only when they join with the ovum of a receptive thought in the mind/womb of a reader is "meaning" fully manifested and a new work of art engendered. Our Minds, folks, are Wombs -- and we cross-fertilize, both fathering and mothering many thoughts. True Intercourse and Discourse are not about power. They are about love -- messy, potent, flowing, exciting, living Love. Each of us uses both our yin and our yang, our male and our female potency daily in the love-making of transacting thoughts. If we could get it through our thick and societally distorted skulls that potency means potential-with, not power-over we would be home free. This is the Truth that sets us free.
We all carry one DNA. One blood -- Life -- flows through our veins. One food -- Love -- fuels our actions. One mother -- Wisdom -- made up our minds. We are not separate entities, at odds with each other, but rather facets of the mirror held up by the One who loves Herself. When we collide, She vibrates with the intensity of her beingness. When we make love, She goes into orgasm. Our words come out of Her mouth as Sons.
We are on the knotty side for the most part, only occasionally able to peer around to see the grandeur of the picture... even then too close up to catch its full magnificence. Only in very rare, mystic, and ecstatic moments are we blessed to see the entirety. I believe that the universal I/eye sees it and weeps for joy though.
Sometimes, when I am knitting a pattern with multiple colors of yarn, the yarns on the purl side will get hopelessly tangled. I need to stop and follow each individual color all the way to its ball or the yarns will become so entangled that there is no freeplay in them. Such work is as instrumental to the creative process as the more delightful parts. This part of the work feels like delay and sometimes even defeat from the process side of the piece I'm knitting. Yet, all the time, on the knit side, the pattern is working itself out fluently. When we are tied up in knots, we too need to cry out to Sophia to untangle us She will do so, for our own good and for the good of the whole piece. She needs and loves each one of us separately and all of us in concert.
Isn't Truth, in all her beauty, glory, and subtlety. far beyond the reach and realm of words, wherein lies dogma? It seems to me that some dogma may point to the truth, perhaps (?) symbolize a bit of the truth, or contain a sacramental tincture of the truth -- but BE Truth? I don't think so. The Truth shall set (us) free; dogma ties us down. Don't get me wrong, dogma grounds us. It has its place and uses (kind of like chemotherapy) but there are always side-effects. Dogma keeps us from considering the alternatives, the variations, the exceptions, and the changes. I love words and I love opinions (both of which you have probably guessed by now.) I'm not at all sure, however, that we can ever go so far as to posit that they capture or contain the essence of TRUTH. To believe so is oxymoronic, isn't it?
January, February 2001