Never get too far away from the spirit of children playing.
One reply on “Maxim”
I dreamed last night I was with a person I know who had some horrific experiences as a youth and adolescent, and we were exploring a haunted space. She said she could feel the ghosts there because she could smell children rotting. I try, in my dreams, to open myself up even to bad experiences, but I was unable to open this experience further. I immediately cut to a hospital scene with a deeply wounded–but alive–soldier. You walk into knives, you will get cut sometimes.
But it felt to me like this is a good metaphor. The child clearly is the father of the man (mother of the woman), and if the child dies, inner coherence dies too. A rottenness sets in when the spirit of play, of undirected, pleasurable activity, is killed in anyone.
I would go so far as to say that if you can't play, you can't be good. It is that important, and obviously this is an issue for me which I am working on. I was killed, but I am not the sort that stays dead.
One reply on “Maxim”
I dreamed last night I was with a person I know who had some horrific experiences as a youth and adolescent, and we were exploring a haunted space. She said she could feel the ghosts there because she could smell children rotting. I try, in my dreams, to open myself up even to bad experiences, but I was unable to open this experience further. I immediately cut to a hospital scene with a deeply wounded–but alive–soldier. You walk into knives, you will get cut sometimes.
But it felt to me like this is a good metaphor. The child clearly is the father of the man (mother of the woman), and if the child dies, inner coherence dies too. A rottenness sets in when the spirit of play, of undirected, pleasurable activity, is killed in anyone.
I would go so far as to say that if you can't play, you can't be good. It is that important, and obviously this is an issue for me which I am working on. I was killed, but I am not the sort that stays dead.