is nature's delight." ~Marcus Aurelius
We flee from our experience of loss instead of tasting its
essence. We stuff our emptiness with sensation and belief,
creating addiction and ideology.
What if we had the courage to descend into the vacuum
of our loss, and imbibe its bittersweet fullness? At the
center of a galaxy, the black hole consumes and destroys;
yet the same void spawns new stars. In the heart of loss
is a counterforce of creativity.
Loss is divine darkness. Loss is the mother of emanation.
When we surrender to loss, we regenerate.
After all, what isn't lost? Our yesterdays, with everyone
and everything in them, are lost. Even a moment ago is
lost forever. Our stories are the ruins of a Presence that
has moved on. The past is an idol, molded of mere thought,
devoid of sentience.
Yet precisely because of this blessed loss, we are free.
We are pure. Not as thought or belief, but as Awareness.
No matter what our past has been, we awaken in this moment,
untainted, utterly fresh. Loss is the holy ground of possibility.
Engraving, William Blake, 'The Song of Los.'
Collage, Rashani Réa
Collage, Rashani Réa
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