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Feeling less than reality: / 22 April 2014

In those patches where I seem to be unrecognisable to myself I get to wonder about life, the universe, cake and everything else.

I attempt a little distance from my practice - in order to 'make' the questions I need to ponder people. I need to think about who we are and who I am.

I am, but not in a sense of separateness that singles me out and then leaves me vulnerable: vulnerable to the judgement of others who see themselves as qualities or quantities separate from the whole ness of life; vulnerable to hate crime and to micro-aggressions designed to keep me in the place assigned to 'my kind; vulnerable to the erosion that will reduce my perception of myself and my life to less than reality.

I am part of the whole. And the whole stretches from the moment we were all incomprehensible oneness, through being scattered through time and space as particles with no individual senses.

I was you, you were me. We became dinosaurs and the Grand Canyon. We became the Pacific Ocean and the night sky. We became dandelions and millipedes. We became, and we are.

'I am' exists only as part of that. Today's perception of me sees whatever I am as integral to one humongous whole.  But also to one continuous process attempting to hold back chaos by reinventing itself, currently so far down the road of denial that it believes diversity is something external to whole ness; unaware that diversity is, like the diversity of heart from lungs, of eyes from ears, internal and essential.

I am right here, right now, apart and a part of something that is both contradictory, confusing and utterly amazing!

Once upon a fluid time,
here at the beginning, or once before.
Rosy-cheeked and tinkerbell she danced,
and watched with wizard eyes, the future form
that curled upon itself, herself, in alien pain.
Saw vampire teeth draw throbbing blood
from hollow skin that knew her only
as a memory. Watched herself through someone else
who surely wasn't her and yet,
and yet, the unexpected thorn
blossomed - life rewaking.
Another form of she began to rise
and like the summer rose
unfold a fragrant stranger.
touching eternity - rosy-cheeked and
dancing through palaces
some tenuous link along the line
of personal identity. The path to who
you think you are, and back again,
or maybe not.

I am diversity,
your only guarantee
of independant thinking.
Without me
your collective wisdom
would whither,
to the tyranny
of conformity.
Without me
you would turn
on each other;
or fade together away.
Without me
you would need
to invent me.
I am diversity
now heading
the way of the tiger.