One

Here I am, the contradiction

Here I am, transcendent Spirit of life, free in an infinite universe that is myself.

Here too, the experience of smallness on an imaginary line of time, of misguided miseries in an absurdly predatory world, the feeling of wanting to flee a dense, slow, inescapable experience.

And while my spirit always remains in its sacred center, the pulsing activity of my individuality runs along a psychological pattern of chaotic emotions headed toward the gradual unraveling of my accumulated subconscious tensions.

There is peace, yes, eternal and ineffable. There is also confusion, broken dishes, and incomprehensible anguish that by their very existence try to carry me galloping off to the stars, where they lose their reason to exist.

Here I am, perceiving human being, master and servant. Being, but also human, but also Being.

and sometimes, it happens to me sometimes. I half-open my eyes and see the absurdity of existence, the desolating magnificence of the infinite, the parody of my smallness in an imaginary temporal world.

Both sides of my duality unite. More precisely, both lose their sense of reality and what remains is an emptiness without classifications. Not a sterile emptiness, but one that laughs all the time because it knows time does not exist.

Then, coming back, I find myself bathed in this joy. Blessings are raining down constantly from the impassive nothing, nourishing my spirits. A whispering eye watches every space in me. An impetuous voice springs from each observed cell, blurring away any structure built upon sand.

The drain plug opens and the maelstrom stirs, a whirlpool suddenly swallowed by a center it never left.

And with every moment I grow, the way a plant does. And with every breath new spaces open in me that I must learn to bring into harmony.

The solution to my contradiction is not in untangling the mind, though that is unavoidable. Who I naturally am, before any intention, attitude or feeling I project onto the world, is clarity, is joy.

Forgiving and loving myself is not an action, because it is my essential state of life.

Here I am: I am the absurdity of existence.

An absurdity that laughs, contradictory yet crystal clear.