I’m listening to Lyle Lovett’s North Dakota, and it is bringing up powerful memories of doing the Hoffman Process. I don’t recall if I mentioned this, but I spent two days after we finished listening to evocative music on their most-excellent stereo system. This song in particular, a lot. I anchored it, it seems.
I am a man with skull flags on both sides of my bed, and it occurred to me that love is an extraordinarily destructive force. It confronts us with the fact that most of us live half lives, that we exist as shadows. It calls out the inauthenticities and lies we tell ourselves. It refuses us the illusory shelters of complacency and perpetual distraction. It, too, is a sword.
May we all die tomorrow of this sword. It is past time. Its presence is quite welcome. There is light behind that shell you and I live in. Our shelter is our cage, and must be destroyed.