That awesome Beauty gives us everything
Whose fault is it
if we go away empty-handed?
* * *
The fucked are beggars at a feast who refuse to eat.
The fucked drown in bathtubs rather than stand up to save themselves.
The fucked are perpetually angry at external circumstances and perpetually wounded by internal doubt.
The fucked are, in a word, fucked.
Borges said that any object suggested its opposite, and its opposite was the entire world. I can't write about the fucked life without suggesting its opposite, and its opposite is not simply an unfucked life, but also its source, its headwaters - the thing before Life, Rumi's awesome Beauty.
A story and a metaphor.
In Hesse's Siddhartha the hero rests alongside a river bank and it occurs to him that once the element of Time is removed a great opening emerges: the river where he sees it is the Present, but at the same time, up river there are waters yet to reach him - the future - and down river is his past, but at each point along the way it is always Present, always emerging, always the past at the same time.
The only constant is The River. Everything else is ephemeral.
The fucked life is a stuck life. You have to enter the stream; you have to be moved by currents more ancient than human memory; you have to bank the quarry riverswim; you have to be The River's partner to unfuck your life. Resisting it, staying on shore, bitching about getting wet keeps you where you are: no-fucking-where.
The River is my metaphor for God, for the force that through the green fuse drives the flower - not religious, not dogmatic, but suffused with Life.
* * *
Who is to blame if you walk away from that awesome Beauty empty-handed? your belly un-filled? your life as pig-fucked as can be?
No one but you.
I can offer no proofs to the skeptical. I can offer no comfort to believers. The River isn't a specimen on a lab table that offers up its internal workings with a few incisions - no matter how bright the scalpel. It is, however, the ground floor of Life, your life, every life regardless of how fucked and furious that life may be.
The River doesn't need you. It is you who needs The River.
The fucked life is a dry life.