I want to tell you a story…
(I hear you! Those cries of delight only SOUND like despair; you all shut up now and ready your ears!)
Once there was only void.
Here let me pause, because you see, every word is ripe with its own meaning and only means what it means in opposition to its antithesis, see? And in the context of this story that would not apply. “Void” for example, or “Empty”; these words hold in themselves the promise and definition of fullness, completion, satiation, both before and after. Here there was no before, and no promise of an after. There was only Only.
So let me start again:
Once in a no-place of no-sound and no-time something Became.
It was and it felt, and stirred and probed at the elastic limits of itself and discovered that it Was. There was an Itself, and nothing else.
It was Only.
Its Onlyness grew and became More, and still it was Only. So it pushed at the confines of its Will - the only cohesive thing there was – it pushed and pulled. It was agony: it was birthing and being born, yet the pain was welcome. A sensation other then the desperate sameness, the spinning bewilderment of being Only.
So it pushed and the something gave- the Will , the thing-that-glues - shattered, and out from what suddenly became not All but a Core, spilled and spattered shards of matter.
Out, out- the flickering, flashing fragments of flame flew; spun away from the Only; thrust out into the no-void and in a heartbeat (though there were no hearts to beat and no concepts of measurement, or even time outside the self-awareness that was the Only) the sparks screaming in incandescent joy and pain sped away.
And at the Core the Only still spun, twisting and turning upon itself, coiled around the embryonic surge/urge of being.
Away the Light fled and sped: faster than all there was and would be, until it’s careening slowed…slowed; and awoke to the same slow awareness of Itself. Each scintillating dart of the original Heart awoke and found itself Only. Spinning, spinning in the dark confines of itself; and so it cried out strove and strives to unite with itself, to return to the Core.
Each particle seeks at every moment to draw in upon itself every other, to become More; to reunite with the Core. This is what fuels the perpetual motion of all. This is the urge at the core of every soul.
We long for the Only, it calls to us, this embryonic God we are part of, this urge/surge to Love.
(I hear you! Those cries of delight only SOUND like despair; you all shut up now and ready your ears!)
Once there was only void.
Here let me pause, because you see, every word is ripe with its own meaning and only means what it means in opposition to its antithesis, see? And in the context of this story that would not apply. “Void” for example, or “Empty”; these words hold in themselves the promise and definition of fullness, completion, satiation, both before and after. Here there was no before, and no promise of an after. There was only Only.
So let me start again:
Once in a no-place of no-sound and no-time something Became.
It was and it felt, and stirred and probed at the elastic limits of itself and discovered that it Was. There was an Itself, and nothing else.
It was Only.
Its Onlyness grew and became More, and still it was Only. So it pushed at the confines of its Will - the only cohesive thing there was – it pushed and pulled. It was agony: it was birthing and being born, yet the pain was welcome. A sensation other then the desperate sameness, the spinning bewilderment of being Only.
So it pushed and the something gave- the Will , the thing-that-glues - shattered, and out from what suddenly became not All but a Core, spilled and spattered shards of matter.
Out, out- the flickering, flashing fragments of flame flew; spun away from the Only; thrust out into the no-void and in a heartbeat (though there were no hearts to beat and no concepts of measurement, or even time outside the self-awareness that was the Only) the sparks screaming in incandescent joy and pain sped away.
And at the Core the Only still spun, twisting and turning upon itself, coiled around the embryonic surge/urge of being.
Away the Light fled and sped: faster than all there was and would be, until it’s careening slowed…slowed; and awoke to the same slow awareness of Itself. Each scintillating dart of the original Heart awoke and found itself Only. Spinning, spinning in the dark confines of itself; and so it cried out strove and strives to unite with itself, to return to the Core.
Each particle seeks at every moment to draw in upon itself every other, to become More; to reunite with the Core. This is what fuels the perpetual motion of all. This is the urge at the core of every soul.
We long for the Only, it calls to us, this embryonic God we are part of, this urge/surge to Love.
It call itself The Only, and we, we are the Lonely; the longing to be more than we are. To be a part and not apart. The desirous, avid fragmented cells of the ever replicating Body of a self awareness just beginning to awaken.
We are the ambition of the Light.
Manuela Cardiga
Manuela Cardiga
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