I write poetry sometimes. I did so with much greater frequency when I was in my late teens and early twenties, but still I write when I get a chance. Poetry is, like travel and intentional bad decisions, something that requires some empty space in ones’ life and mind.

Time to create a new word:

Lifemind: the psychophysical storyboard of the world, upon which gross and subtle objects dance across the reflective surface of awareness. In Samkhya philosophy it is called prakriti, the ever-changing domain of nature. It is not limited to physical matter, but includes more subtle elements like thoughts and memories as well.

Space in the lifemind is a beautiful thing. If you have a spacious lifemind you should put your hands in the air and scream like you are at a Bruce Springsteen concert. When you have space you can breathe out. You can stretch out and take risks. You can play, dance, and touch the perceived edges of your being. It is not only for the young, but also for the lucky, and also for those who know the alchemical magic of its creation.

I love her.

A telekinetic field effect joins us. She moves me with her mind. Her eyes animate my emotions. Like thunder shaking the foundations of my home, my attention is compelled and my lifeworld is filled. She fills me with bliss. She decapitates me and wears my severed head as a charm on her necklace.

I retreat to silence, but she calls to me. I choose her.

She is who you think she is, but more than that.

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