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What I Would've Said

What I would’ve said is that I’m always, just prior to every moment on the verge of occurring, in the crazy ass superposition that might be one of two completely different worlds until the moment collapses into the less super position of shedding all its potential and merely being what it is, which is still really cool, sometimes. It depends. What world am I in? Am I perceiving the world from the perspective of what I can take? Or have I given way to what can be given? Again, these two positions are both always maybe there all the time right before one of them is. It’s just a tiny fucking switch, so subtle—flip—between vastly different universes. Blink blink. Same thing right on the verge. But then my god the difference!

If I’m taking, I’m in the self, which is another word for a non-existent maze—the very unreal thing inside of which you become real and thus become lost. In there, I’m created and perpetuated by the desire to escape. This desire to escape manifests as many forms—it’s all the stuff you think you want—but none of that works because the desire to escape is the actual thing—the ceaseless yearning—that realizes that which is caught in the unreal trap. How fucked up is that? My ambition to escape complicates the maze.

—or flip—

When I give way to giving, I’m instantly—just like that—sprung. Self and maze vanish as a bigger I than a self opens out and into the world and becomes such a part of the world, that turns as it gives, that the mere act of speaking in terms of a distinction between self and world creates disunion where none exists. This is what the old timers meant when they spoke of cleaning house and, even more radically, what the roshi meant when he told me my house was on fire—get out of the house! Indeed. But be wary of the subtle selfishness that lurks in the desire to improve the self via the process of abandoning the self. Why clean a house that’s on fire? Get out! Get out! Give it all away with no thought and let the fucker burn.

That’s what I would’ve said.