I, for my part, will submit a second meaning to the metaphor just referenced, which is that we are distanced from the ground of reality by artificial appliances, and that reality, in turn, is obscured by shifting clouds of ignorance and the pushing away of knowledge.
This is more abstract. I prefer the original meaning, the feeling-tone of which came to me in a dream. The car was driven, by the way, by someone I know who I consider an exemplar of personal discipline and applied common sense. A man.
Now, it’s been so long since I’ve been laid, I look for signs of incipient homosexuality in my dreams, but it continues to be the case that in my rare sex dreams it is always women. I will admit to being thankful for this. There is something sad, to me, as I observe it, in homosexuality, at least male homosexuality. It’s not a question of morality to me–what men do with their dicks is, I am quite sure, a matter of indifference to God, as long as no one is hurt–but what I see and feel. I have known quite a few gay men, and there seems to be this feeling of an unknowable loss of some sort. That is my perception, in any event. Perhaps I am making things up.
But with regard to reality, this is much more abstract concept. I don’t like that level of abstraction. This is why I have parted ways with much of the Indian tradition, with what might be termed Raga Yoga.
I like the Tibetan tradition, as taught by Tarthang Tulku, in which one approaches reality bit by bit, as tangible feelings and sensations, as wholistic affective gestalts which are irreducible, but categorically present and felt. Nudging your way in. Step by step by step, every one leading to emotional healing and spiritual cleansing.
I will admit to some things going on in my life I am not talking about. I will eventually. I am superstitious in some ways, about some things. It’s perhaps irrational, but, perhaps, not.