Another Choice

On this Earth today, all our hells are present and active.

Terrestrial life today is a crucible – that of a terrible universal alchemy?

As if all the actors, all of them, had converged here for a decisive resolution, the issue of which is veiled to us.

***

It is quite possible that, on the path of the quest, some may deem that a condition of infinite silence and blissful poise, detached from the domain of form, is far superior and preferable to ours and thus elect to settle themselves there. Yet the revolted ones, the wanderers and ancient adventurers, those who may have already travelled many cycles and sojourned in many stations, those who no longer have any personal ambition nor any desire for salvation, those who are simply and irreparably enamored of the Supreme in Matter, those ones, then, will seek the path that must open here itself.

***

And too, there are those who are choking, who suffocate, who cannot bend themselves to the norms and search, search for the tunnel or the spring that will snap them out of the hypnosis into free air – this sovereign air, the air they must find again. There are those who are a little absent, of an indefinable absence; they do not rebel, they try their best not to disturb, not to offend, but they suffer from having to bear this stifling sheath, this habit of humanity, the same in all its guises, and wait, and wait that at last a work, a sense, a delivering path be shown to them, here. There are those who do not bite the bait: they see it but do not respond to it, as they cannot forget wherefrom they came and yet have lost their freedom, been taken as hostages, divested, forced to conform – are they abandoned? There are those who, unable to adapt, wiggle between the stitches of the net and sometimes collapse on the sand or, sometimes, track down other footprints and set to follow them: whether they waver and fail or forge ahead, their cry resonates and accomplishes.

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