Wanting what is not presently here fills the gap - is essentially what is here - which means there is no gap - which we don't want to see because what would we do then? The nothing-to-do is always confused with what is presently being-done perfectly consistently. You can't talk to eddies in the brook, but now and again they briefly embody otherwise, most recently and notably as Emily Dickinson. "None suspect me of the crown" indeed.
Recently I am aware of that which is forbidden - certain women, certain spaces - and it makes me smile, it makes me order hamburgers, it makes me change the batteries in the mirror ball. For example, the upper room, which I left to itself for six months - then entered - the old hayloft, and it takes a long time to walk across it, and some part of me cannot handle largesse, cannot say yes to the blessing. Where is the forest to which to run if not in the interior and if it is in the interior then why do I so often lose it? Foxes swim across the river, laughing on the other side because I'm still too damn scared to get my feet wet.
Hey look, the man without shoes now has six pairs! Suddenly I can't remember did she write about black bears, and not remembering is a form of emptiness - a gap - that is here but still, did she? He can't leave the chair now, has a way of humming that replaces speech, and still I understand, and still I sit quietly waiting. Thursday never comes, nor does tomorrow.
What really blows my mind is birth - not the body being born - but suddenly waking up to this self, to this world, to experience. "I was just stopping by," he says, adding "I like what you've done to the place but what are you going to do in it?" One can't get any clearer or cleaner so when it comes to soap and meditation, have fun, play, invite a friend but for Christ's sake stop thinking something right or necessary is happening. I do know that she wrote about her "freckled bosom" several times, usually with indifference, usually knowing that a man wouldn't have had to worry that question.
Saddle up, we're going for a ride! You may have noticed that consummation isn't my strong suit but hey, the textual - the wordy - foreplay is kinda divine, yes? Carey and I talked about the prophylactic nature of boredom, which remains the mode, sort of. What "I" am is this yearning to yearn for experience admiring itself. Given, accepted, given back, et cetera.