"My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness." - Tenzin Gyatso
It had never occurred to me, until this moment, that I held the projection of the mother for him. I was so in love with him and yet he was so in love with another, I had never stopped to consider what the significance of his close affection for might be if not being in love.
Yet after the ablution and libations, the incantations and recitations, in the unworldly trance he found himself in, I have been stripped of all humanity and what remains constellated in that ecstatic vision of his is me as his mother, the mother.
I hold him close to me. He begins to tell me the story of his pain, which is mine -- and so all I can do is to hold him closer and tighter. Binding myself more deeply to the constellation of his symbolic truth, to my symbolic truth. A moment of pure intimacy against the background beat of the drums and the only light of the stars in the night sky blessing us from afar.
A moment of my truth repeated into the materiality of the world. A prologue.
The Emo Blogger's Happy Blogging Challenge: Prologue
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