The darkness of the night reminds me of another time.
The simplicity, the ease, when the smallest difference was monumental.
There is another way I can get there.
When I know the body is breathing, standing, engaged in life, a support exists that nurtures my being.
I’m not alone, I am together with all that exists.
We are living, breathing, beings intertwined into a magic space where time and place and all things melt together yet hold their own intrinsic value.
If we are just that simple what then is complication?
The division of everything into classes, forms, categories, everything subject to sets of laws.
Some, free of laws and others under the entirety of laws.
The weight of what they are given carried like bricks on their backs, roadblocks in their minds, and strongholds on their hearts.
What then does complication serve?
The epitome of uselessness, the beauty of too many things created for reasons forgotten, now produced automatically to serve a monotony that maintains a status quo.
Does it serve desire?
A single cell separated split into two must have a certain desire to reunite. A child once grown must want to stay, a seed under strong conditions must grow deep roots–a want, a wish, a longing must manifest to hold us, to unite what is divided.
To simply be then, I must desire nothing else.