Losing them, fixing them, forgetting to put them in
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Everyone in high, high heels, reaching for heaven, an eyebrow raised above the clouds, trying to see.
I was sitting in a restaurant in Bombay enjoying a dosa masala for lunch when David popped in and asked if I would be interested in going to Ahmednagar with him.
“I don’t fight with flowers.”
Self-righteous attempts at conventional religion; experiments with grass, acid, speed; chanting Hare Krishna down Fifth Avenue; endless wanderings around the earth — so began the search for enlightenment among my friends more than 10 years ago. It’s hard to see if anyone has become enlightened, and if they have, they haven’t become better human beings for it.
High up just inside the dome of the great public domain, there is being prepared now a World’s Fair, a great unveiling.
Like everyone, I was looking for inner peace and happiness. There were the days of booze and drugs. The two hours each day of Yoga positions which included breathing exercises that almost blew my head off. Concentrative meditation which was preceded by a primal scream for everyone to be quiet.
To come to an understanding of the intrinsic workings of everyday life, primitive man sought order amidst the chaos of his existence. Tides came in and washed over ground that was dry and untouchable only days before. Cold made barren the lushness of a summer forest.
Astrological notation, rows of numbers, and the arcane symbolism of the Tarot filled the page.
Before I went traveling I lived in a house where we banned the word “Enlightenment.” At the time it was the impossible, unreachable, unfathomable dream, and I suppose we couldn’t take the pressure of being held up to our Goal, being only human as we were.
BODY enters world. Spirit enters body. Go.