Sunday, 14 April 2013

And what magic greater than life?

In a conversation not long ago, a friend told me that human beings are beams of possibility interacting in perpetuity. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more poetic or exact description of the human condition. Individual human life is not carved in stone. We are born amidst the cry of a being that realises it's setting off on a great adventure; an adventure better than the most exquisite movie, more moving that the most moving poem, whose vehicle even, the body, which we condescendingly characterise matter – as if we are not half mother matter - is made of stardust. The fibres of the energy – of the one and only energy that is all and us together – that our spirit chose to wield in this life pulsate orgasmically in our palm with the certainty of eternity and the impatience of the now, the untamed life that forever seeks to create new forms, more elaborate arabesques on the cosmic canvas; each of them, a fine thread, but potentially Zeus’ thunder or a seismic crack on the ground throwing us into Hades. Our spirit, a crystal ring. Not to defile, not to obfuscate, not to still any of our being’s rays of light, but to casually hold them together and let them dance life’s ecstatic ballet; to let them spread to Poseidon’s nebulae and again, tenderly gather them together,on the precipice of our lips for a first electrified kiss. 

Whenever I consider the stuff I’m made of, I almost tear up with a wild joy whispering that within me churns, inside an eternal crock, the matter of all my Gods, mixed with dirt, air, fire, water, fairies and unicorns. And then, I look upon my life and all I can see is endless ways complete with leafy and cool passages, and enchanting lunar sceneries with strange odours stirring, and white, merciless Greek solar light violating the boundaries of structures and flattening everything and sanctifying the body. And I, wielding in my right hand the freedom to touch, crawl, roll, walk all the passages, and in my left hand, my bonds. That are just the notion I cannot be whatever I may ever want. But really, I can.