Thereís this expression that writers will occasionally use, and since I fancy myself a writer from time to time, I suppose Iím entitled
Ďwriting your way out of hellí
Iíd like to write my way out of hell today.
Itíd really take too long to set the whole scene. Long standing love, frustrated desire, jealousy, betrayal, higher principlesÖ
Iíll tell you about eva soon. Thatís very important. I think sheís the greatest person who ever lived. Maybe that makes me vulnerable and easily exploited. Maybe itís easier than getting on with my life sometimes. Maybe I just love her beyond words. Maybe Iím just overly idealistic. Comes with the whole superhero thing, yeah?
The higher principles come from my Buddhist teacher. Iíll tell you about him soon too. Very important. I donít want to do him a disservice by rushing it either.
I donít want to dwell on my hurt and confusion. Iím trying to understand what I havenít got the objectivity to understand. Maybe I understand perfectly, but I just canít accept it.
Iím thinking about spirituality. The kind of spirituality that advocates the shedding of clinging and craving, the purification of character, the strength of the mind. Iím glad I have some of that. It makes things easier to deal with. Something comes along, and if itís painful enough, I go into a tailspin for awhile, but eventually the system reboots like a computer program, and pulls me up again. I see through the negativity, the deficent needs, the unskillful behaviors , the conditional attatchments , and I feel better.
But sometimes, and particularly today, I am thinking about the beauty of imperfection.
I am thinking of the fragile beauty of sad hopeless longing, or sentimental unrealistic wishes. I am thinking that these things have a profound immaculate glory to them, that cannot be replaced by the bright light of the buddha. Perhaps it is only the bright light of the buddha that makes it possible for me to see things that way.