Reprieve Paper
All right, maybe one, just one interjected, a moment, media-free, my thoughts uninterrupted. So here I'll simply imagine that everybody is consciously connected to the feeling life within—the part that children know so well, the part that remembers to breathe, the part that hasn't learned to lie, the part that looks us in the eye, the part that has no cover, the part that is the lover of itself at the center of its own universe revealed, the part that wouldn't even for a second believe it is something to be concealed, the part that has no other, the part that delights in its own existence, the part that never poses or coerces, because it has no shame, the part that introduces itself openly, unfamiliar with any abuses, needing no excuses, delivering itself like the tide, responding only to the moon, with nothing to confide, irresistible, unapologetic to the shore. I'd like to simply imagine that as true—all consciously connected and more. I'd like to simply imagine that it's not the exception to the rule, that voices dominating the air waves have graduated from emotion literacy school. And then it becomes really simple to imagine the planet at ease—all the unblocked energies announcing ignorance and avoidance of the feeling self so as to bring it to its knees. What next? I wish.
