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I had wanted to write about the infinitude of the conscious loving. But midway through the morning, I was hijacked by a song – “I’m a creep” by Radiohead.
I don’t know why I can’t shake this ear worm. And when I listened to the chords, it was just so amazingly rocking. It doesn’t matter if it’s a live concert of Radiohead or Johhny Depp in a music video, it is an exhilirating song.
And I don’t know why it speaks to me, as it did to my 10 year old nephew.
It’s intriguing. This intrigue that keeps me listening to this song, that is seemingly so self-condemning, which, when you soak into the song, isn’t about being self-defeated, but about a subtle and silent rebellion, that only the outcast within, can resonate with. Which if we are deeply honest about it, is in each and everyone of us.
Then I stumbled upon “the top ten songs that make you cry” by watchmojo.com and I suddenly felt this inner space, of loneliness, of no-words, just one of helpless ununderstandable. What some may call vulnerability, but it really isn’t. There is no fear in this space. The closest I can feel is loneliness. A loneliness that no one nor anything tangible can fill. It is one of deep cavern. An emotional longing that has no words. I might venture calling it a need for fulfillment, but which nothing on earth can fill. I might venture calling it a call for love. A longing for baptism, for wholeness, for spiritual blessedness. But it remains, decidedly and faithfully, empty. The intensity when, unshared, remains panting for connectedness.
And when spoken, reveals and releases inner dimensions of truthfulness that no one can fathom, including the self. And when released, it is as clear as night and day. And one breathes a sigh, of relief. Of communion. But it is and was, unspoken, non-articulable release of the tension of non-being.
I might venture calling this an impulse for being.
There is no ego or non-ego here. It is no longer a battle. It is more of an assertion of life, the higher affirmation. Is this perhaps what DT Suzuki alludes to as Zen?
Can Zen be this withdrawal, this wave of retreat, of impossible longing for connectedness, intangible, inexpressible trace of grace? Which when fully drawn to the height of the highest tension releases the most truthful expression of interconnectedness? That cannot be planned, because it requires the longing of the other as well.
The meetings of two. One a wave, one a shore. Or two waves, surging back and forth.
What are these emotional surgings?
The origin of these deep impulses?
No one knows.
A total existential questioning remains while the ear worm returns.
What remains perhaps is song and the inner utterances of our mutual searching and questing.
And it actually requires the echo of a similar other to validate the truthful and respectful mutuality of the longing in loneliness and emptiness.
An embrace can’t happen without the fully matched outreached arms of the other.
There is no true communion, bonding, without the admission of need.
And this is how I came to understand that there is no engagement without the need and intimacy of mutuality.
January 5, 2017