You are five, and your brother is holding your wrist, and gently slapping your face with your own hand. You giggle.
It's funny. But it does foretell a magnificent lesson that can only be learned through, not of.
I recently "quit" smoking tobacco and caffeinated coffee. The two go hand in hand, and they are, for those who know (at least one of them), that they are a double slap. I know! So disappointing for such a dedicated yogi. Slap. Well, how bout I just sneak away in shame- slap. I wondered for so long why I did this- why I dropped so much chemical into myself every morning, as if the ritual was part of some fantasy that I'd finally arrived at. Slap.
I'm trying to remember where I first saw that fantasy. It was definitely 21 years ago when I first came to California, and was reiterated by Vice magazine- a story on Humboldt County. Now I live in a place like Humboldt County, and how dare I finally arrive and give it all up? Girl, you gotta watch out- I'ma slap you.
Well, I gave it up. I gave it up because my breath couldn't move through the tension in my chest. Because the subtleties and slipperiness where too much to negotiate. Sure, I should've known better. So there. Another slap. you should have known. We all should've known better. And I'm sick of trying to make excuses in the name of nonduality. Oh really?Everything can't come with the reasoning of nonduality- it will fall flat on its face. Sometimes you've got to make a constellation for yourself in that big glorious sea, so at least you can gain some gravity.