"I entered the mystery and the mystery ignored me," Brenda Hillman says with no heartbreak. So, the woman is left with a glorious sense of zero. Like Mother Earth, that ever changing yet radically inconsolable She, I am finding power in that concept of negative capablility: being nothing so you can in turn be everything. As the waves come in and go out. I do not know what I am looking for but I am willing to let most everything disentegrate for the seach. Imi loa. Now the focus becomes tallying the cost of what it means to be forever in this position.
Proactively eager to see what the harvest will be.
"And since I want to be alive until I'm dead, I listen for sounds that, in Spinoza's terms, are identical with that part of my nature that orients me towards the world. Louis Zukofsky expresses it sweetly in response to L. S. Dembo's question in an interview conducted in 1969:
Q. Where does the idea of love fit in ...
A. Well, it's like my horses. If you're good enough to run, or you feel like running, you run. If you want to live, you love: if you don't want to live, you hate, that's all. It's as simple as that ...
Zukofsky's work is filled with horses, epic horses, Homer's horses, Ovid's Lenti, Lenti Noctis Equi (1) , Richard the III's 'A horse! A horse! my Kingdom for a horse.'"
"The native peoples who inhabited these lands long before us worshipped the Earth; they were educated by it. They didn't require schools and churches -- their whole world was one." --Michael Ableman, organic farmer, Goleta, California.
There is a concept in chaos and complexity literature called a "sweet spot". There exists a sweet spot between chaos and order, gas and crystal, wild and tame. In that spot lies the powerfully creative force of self-organization (aka "order for free") where we organize based on our strengths. In a polyculture (of more than one love) we breed not just one crop, but all the difficulties and joys that come with multiple crops. Seek that sweet spot where all of our abilities to perform, or even exceed performance, flourish next to each other.
"They were talking about him at lunch, said Richard. (But he could not tell her he loved her. He held her hand. Happiness is this, he thought.)...He had not said "I love you"; but he held her hand. Happiness is this, is this he thought." Virginia Woolf, "Mrs. Dalloway"
There are things we know we need to say but we cannot say them. It is as if language is expendable in order to connect. Even in our utmost desire to connect there is a gap, even in marriage, where solidute is diginty. "And there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect..." The connection comes from mudane things like reaching to hold a hand. Or fridge food writing.