TWENTY TWO

Day 24 down

 

In the afternoon I was gripped with something like terror. I came out of a blank state, peculiar for how dense, how formless it was, holding this:


“Consciousness is a living thing.”


The thing that animates us was itself alive? How many layers were there? If it was true, if the life-force was an entity, everything made sense. Chaos theory, the press forward. It all made sense… It made my troubles with Tae seem trivial. How two people can love each other, given the complexity, is mind-boggling. For sure it’s only a moment in time. Conversely, why don’t we all share the love? Love at a fast clip, the True One doesn’t wait on anything. It manifests through infinite worlds, uncountable lives were lost before she returned the glance. I was through. The dark and the light, the flight of the moth, the twinkle of starlight; people moving quickly past, a flood of images that couldn’t be resolved; too busy to develop itself, the structure constantly overflowed. When would I learn?

 

The existential conundrum suddenly made sense. If our existence was an expression of the One Mind, of course there was no meaning. It couldn’t be resolved. If you saw this thing as alive and we its process then life fundamentally changed, because there would be no measure, no other meaning, no point or purpose. Then what becomes important is to align yourself with the One, to put your concerns to rest — they amount to nothing, and, being an expression of the One, there’s no thing that’s ours, no state that remains unchanging. Fundamentally, we don’t exist.

 

Day 23 down

 

I had a hard day with the stalker. I couldn’t get him off of me, even after yesterday’s meeting. He’d told our section leader, “I don’t have desire. I only keep the hwadu.” I cursed at him across the room, a full, bustling room of monks. He complained that I shouldn’t speak about it in public. What recourse did I have? Of course everyone knew. There wasn’t anything else going on. It was very difficult to control him in the Korean system. On some level I wanted to finish the goddamn dance, but I would’ve been thrown out if I hit him. I had to watch every door, every blind spot. He knew my habits, would lunge toward me whenever I tried to navigate a choke-point. He was insidious. I’d never encountered anything like it.

 

In the woods, I paced the minutes before the next round of meditation. Too much stalker in the room, I lived in the woods, on the trail, in the cleft, on the river of boulders. It was hard for me to listen to him joking around. It drove me out. I was the one hiding. Was he somehow normal, the pervert? Did he lead a normal life, like in a David Lynch movie, or did he know it was all shit?

 

Tae, the only safe place in a world of fear and anger, was very difficult to believe in. Instead the stalker and the beautiful sea of tranquil One Mind samadhi love and the flowing river and a few abysmal daydreams I couldn’t flesh out; the sultry heat clinging mist dying light of the forest. The wonderful part of waiting for her, it drove me to do impossible things. I learned so much — another revolution in practice. My life could never return to what it was. And, since there was no communication, only her spirit remained with me — a new archetype, a new kind of love.

 

Day 22 down

 

Stalker revulsion, saved in the end by the pure thing in her that the world could not touch. She was a giant figure in my new mythology. She revealed the One. It was easy to comprehend through her, and so my struggle to put down my life resolved finally into a new way to live in deep accord with the One. The One became visible through her, and the way shown for the future, how to align a human love with the divine.

 

The rain came in heavy. A wave of deep meditation pulled me in. I was glad for the deluge because I could not keep quiet, such ecstasy. Tae, intertwined all through it, seemed to represent my connection to the world, the One Mind through her. She magnified, stirred in curling waves what would be invisible, the thing in motion interacting with the world, like an instrument that measured the ceaseless activity of the one as it flowed through her. Tae.