In service of the shatter the whole encompasses
I am stung and think: it's time to be offline again. But I am no longer someone who punishes themselves with asceticism and discipline as a correction against error. Asceticism and discipline belong to my pleasures, and will not be misused for pain.
I think: here we are, in the mud of being, doing what moves us and containing what moves within us so as to release it when called. I'm opening to you. We're closing in agreement. We're holding open to talk it through. We're closing to honour the separateness which gives this experience meaning. We're opening in hopes that, in spite of our separateness, we may experience the transcendence of melding.
The split and splinter are the whole. However the pain shoots through, however the somatic and psychological body react, how the spirit glimmers a cold light through the rising wave, reminding before the water crashes over, shocking awake, revealing the fish, disavowing your separateness. I go through the wet. I glimpse mermaids, the both/and body.