Happy is kind of a funny word. I was sailing down a country road the other day in a big old truck with an open door. It took be back to similar long rides on my motorcycle in spring time through the hills of Berkeley and other places. Everywhere the hills are green and flowers bloom in orchards. There one is in all that beauty swaying side to side to meet the curves lost in a moving impression. Look, a sign. Did it say Berkeley school for the blind?
It seems there are two sides to life, two experiences that are mutually exclusive and can't share consciousness, one deep and one light and airy and to contain them both is to burst. I was talking to linuxboy today and mentioned to him a moment out of Blade Runner when the android in the last few moments of his life speaks of having seen things you can't imagine out among the stars, things the memory of which is about to disappear forever.
How deep is this desire to share the mystery of our souls with another, with the beloved. What an ache is separation. What an utter mystery our consciousness.
Back and forth we travel swinging from side to side on this our magic ride, to weep and leap for joy, singly and together.
It seems there are two sides to life, two experiences that are mutually exclusive and can't share consciousness, one deep and one light and airy and to contain them both is to burst. I was talking to linuxboy today and mentioned to him a moment out of Blade Runner when the android in the last few moments of his life speaks of having seen things you can't imagine out among the stars, things the memory of which is about to disappear forever.
How deep is this desire to share the mystery of our souls with another, with the beloved. What an ache is separation. What an utter mystery our consciousness.
Back and forth we travel swinging from side to side on this our magic ride, to weep and leap for joy, singly and together.