Alone and with you

Real­i­ty is a sub­tle con­struc­tion of our sens­es. Dif­fer­ent joys, dif­fer­ent wounds, a swarm of inter­pre­ta­tions sum­ma­riz­ing our curricula.

We all dream a lit­tle of the same fables. What we per­ceive by our sens­es for thou­sands of years will have end­ed up set­tling in a con­cep­tion of the real­i­ty which has dif­fi­cul­ty to under­stand the new algorithms.

The world, once again, is chang­ing before our eyes. In the past, bush­es spoke and dic­tat­ed com­mands, then the Earth broke free from its flat ter­rain. Lat­er, our tele­scopes, micro­scopes and equa­tions mixed every­thing up again. The uni­verse is grand, the infi­nite­ly small is indeed infi­nite, the order of things is in every­thing. What is going on around the bil­lions of stars that make up our own galaxy would be sim­i­lar to what is foment­ing through the gigan­tism of oth­er swarms of phe­nom­e­na. Every­thing below is like every­thing above and vice ver­sa. The dance becomes both hell­ish and trag­i­cal­ly beautiful.

No won­der then that we are tempt­ed to judge his­to­ry for what it nev­er was. Our gaze has changed and our past wan­der­ings are sud­den­ly trans­formed into unfor­giv­able venal­i­ty. We would like to remake the world with the tired bifo­cals of our sens­es as if we did not take the time – do we real­ly want to ? – to under­stand the new squar­ing of the uni­verse, as if the present of our blind­ed eyes could not be coloured with ultra­vi­o­let vibrations.

I am lost, it seems to me, immo­bi­lized by so many pos­si­bil­i­ties. I want so much to join the bliss of the present moment, to stick to you, body and for­eign soul, as if there were only answer in the ques­tions that I could ask you in con­tact with your body.

It is indeed a dream, in me, in us, whose bor­ders vibrate with the pas­sage of the beings we encounter. It is all about orig­i­nal ritor­nel­los that do not share the same orches­tra and audi­ence of a tem­po­ral the­atre, redun­dant nonethe­less, that it would be pos­si­ble, one says now, to exceed, to over­take. That to sing, to mag­ni­fy the beau­ty, the ugli­ness of what we exper­i­ment, to crack our shells and to under­stand oth­er­wise the nature of what seems to be the height of the truth.

I am both hap­py and sad alone. I am anx­ious to have only waxed wings on the sur­face. And if I prayed to Shi­va, would I have a bet­ter chance of tast­ing the hon­ey of the eter­nal ? And if I were silent, would I have eas­i­er access to the door of the stars ?

Om Namah Shiv­aya. Is there a bet­ter prayer for mod­ern times ? Am I the one to dis­cov­er it or to invent it ?