Universal Crush
Doctor Crush
On the shore of the South China Sea, in a fishing town called Mui Ne my fantasies of Dr. Ben, ten thousand miles away, are stoked and stroked by the rhythm of the sea against the shore: rushing in, pulling away, consuming the edge of land with yawning waves; grinding detritus in the mad rush to slam into the beach once again. The waves are tormented by an obsession with the shore which has lasted through hundreds of civilizations, before memory and since, for thousands of civilizations to come. The thrusting, the pounding, the relenting and withdrawing will continue. So who am I to judge it, condemn it, to try and constrain it with stories of mortal sin, original sin, the moral right, righteous mind or even spiritual evolution? I have been evolving spiritually for decades and the more I open to ‘my creator’, the more I accept, not only the condition of man, but of all life; to merge, to meld, and to absorb or be absorbed by desire. The big bang isn’t an event that happened; it is happening. The Universe is expanding and we are part of the chain of explosions that roll out in Universal Time, which is slower than geological time. From an enormous sea of hydrogen this molecule merges with that one and creates a new one which slams into yet another one to create a whole new set of molecules and atoms. It’s all part of an enormous wave that crashes back into its boundary and grinds it small, stone into dust, shell into sand. It is from this same rhythm of life that Dr. Ben and I are slamming into each other. It is a primordial drive screaming up from my molecules to crash into his and thereby know life deeper and fuller. To change, refine and evolve.
Fire would be easier. We are encased in forbidden fruit: medical impropriety, marital infidelity. This is a dangerous dalliance. This is a driving need to consume him; to be consumed by him. Submit together to the transformative power of desire. Our molecular drive to combust together. We will be shells crushed into sand on the beach, burying and scattering life’s lessons that can then only be collected in a time consuming, patient hindsight procedure of selecting fragments and discarding pieces. In a quiet contemplative work that doesn’t come easily in or after the chaos of a breaking wave.
There is a time to have ethical and moral discussions and speak of things larger than ourselves. And, there are times to wade into the ocean and leap! Arms up, unabashedly throwing ourselves in front of a thundering wave and becoming part of the explosion of sand, shells, water and debris, just to see where the Universe takes you this time.
I swam past the crashing waves into the deeper water where the rollers conjoined and separated. And the bottom dropped away. There is no land for the waves to chew, no new forms for it to refine. There is just a turbulent rolling around and under me. When I got there I looked back at the shore where my husband stood, turned and swam out deeper still. My strokes were strong and precise. In calmer water I would have been an arrow, perhaps a torpedo, but in the turbulent stewing energy I bounced over trough from falling crest, weaved from roller to rogue. I lost sight of my husband’s head, now bobbing in the shallower seas, legions of South China Sea molecules between us. I rolled and cavorted, danced a graceful, floating ballet; buoyed and supported, welcomed and embraced in the fluid Universe.
On the shore of the South China Sea, in a fishing town called Mui Ne my fantasies of Dr. Ben, ten thousand miles away, are stoked and stroked by the rhythm of the sea against the shore: rushing in, pulling away, consuming the edge of land with yawning waves; grinding detritus in the mad rush to slam into the beach once again. The waves are tormented by an obsession with the shore which has lasted through hundreds of civilizations, before memory and since, for thousands of civilizations to come. The thrusting, the pounding, the relenting and withdrawing will continue. So who am I to judge it, condemn it, to try and constrain it with stories of mortal sin, original sin, the moral right, righteous mind or even spiritual evolution? I have been evolving spiritually for decades and the more I open to ‘my creator’, the more I accept, not only the condition of man, but of all life; to merge, to meld, and to absorb or be absorbed by desire. The big bang isn’t an event that happened; it is happening. The Universe is expanding and we are part of the chain of explosions that roll out in Universal Time, which is slower than geological time. From an enormous sea of hydrogen this molecule merges with that one and creates a new one which slams into yet another one to create a whole new set of molecules and atoms. It’s all part of an enormous wave that crashes back into its boundary and grinds it small, stone into dust, shell into sand. It is from this same rhythm of life that Dr. Ben and I are slamming into each other. It is a primordial drive screaming up from my molecules to crash into his and thereby know life deeper and fuller. To change, refine and evolve.
Fire would be easier. We are encased in forbidden fruit: medical impropriety, marital infidelity. This is a dangerous dalliance. This is a driving need to consume him; to be consumed by him. Submit together to the transformative power of desire. Our molecular drive to combust together. We will be shells crushed into sand on the beach, burying and scattering life’s lessons that can then only be collected in a time consuming, patient hindsight procedure of selecting fragments and discarding pieces. In a quiet contemplative work that doesn’t come easily in or after the chaos of a breaking wave.
There is a time to have ethical and moral discussions and speak of things larger than ourselves. And, there are times to wade into the ocean and leap! Arms up, unabashedly throwing ourselves in front of a thundering wave and becoming part of the explosion of sand, shells, water and debris, just to see where the Universe takes you this time.
I swam past the crashing waves into the deeper water where the rollers conjoined and separated. And the bottom dropped away. There is no land for the waves to chew, no new forms for it to refine. There is just a turbulent rolling around and under me. When I got there I looked back at the shore where my husband stood, turned and swam out deeper still. My strokes were strong and precise. In calmer water I would have been an arrow, perhaps a torpedo, but in the turbulent stewing energy I bounced over trough from falling crest, weaved from roller to rogue. I lost sight of my husband’s head, now bobbing in the shallower seas, legions of South China Sea molecules between us. I rolled and cavorted, danced a graceful, floating ballet; buoyed and supported, welcomed and embraced in the fluid Universe.
Labels: Sunday Scribblers
posted by Shadow | 11:35 AM
1 Comments:
I like the way you develop the idea that we are part of a bigger picture and are pulled by these forces to do things that fall outside what might be socially or culturally acceptable. Very nice wave imagery, too!
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