The practitioner of the Way has seen in himself this insatiable desire to seize toys, his own, those of others.
He perceived the error and its consequences,
the eternal illusion,
the cloud of smoke,
He let go of the toys of his own religion,
He understood that a mental object,
so refined, delicious,
is a door to another corridor of doors.
So, he sits down through the crumbs of mental objects,
Rains of broken toys, gusts of stories knitted since the dawn of time, which come to beat his eardrums.
He sees that none of this has ever really existed
He smiles at the unspeakable evanescence
(to the lakes, the mountains, the forests…)
Notes & Silence 
« Corridor of doors » is interesting. As a young teenager, I drew a picture. A long corridor disappears into the distance. In the wall on the left is a long window, looking out on an indistinct, rural scene. The wall on the right has many doors, from one of which a colourless, semi abstract, figure emerges. At the vanishing point of the corridor is a cross.
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Ah…That is interesting..
unexpected, also, from you.
How do you approach this ‘vanishing point’ today ?
Would you still be able to place a cross on that point ?
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The cross, no. Or at least, not with the same symbolism. It exists in other imagery, but has been too far appropriated by Christianity. My approach was much less developed, then.
Th vanishing point, I suppose, is Ithaca. The ultimate destination; but the journey has the greater, current, importance.
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« much less developed » is often deeper.
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Not when it follows the tramlines of conventional thought.
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When have you started caring for conventional thought ?
There is nothing less conventional than Christ
Nothing less conventional than the cross …
Christ’s cross is a definition for « unconventional. »
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I care to avoid it, and the theology that men build around Christ is oppressively conventional. I went too deep into that, and, now, must find my anarchy elsewhere.
To those who have managed to avoid that baggage – you did well.
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I understand.
Still, »there is no greater love… »
In the silence of one’s heart,
Behind one’s closed doors,
one knows.
Theology and discourses…well, that has never been the point anyway.
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