Tuesday, July 22, 2014

THE MYTHOPOEIA BENEATH - FRAGMENTS

Let's face it, reality is harsh. To measure up to reality is to be smart, worldly, perspicacious and somewhere, devious. In the face of unmitigated reality which is in itself quite splintered the idea of wholeness is not only difficult to conceptualize but impossible to actualize
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The day is agreeable. The clouds sever as gusts of air cleft them and then regather to form complete shapes. The wind is agreeable though not gusty or ferocious. The grass undulates, the birds swoop and cry, uttering carillons on what seems joyous.

The waves ebb and flow. A wave advances, then retreats, leaving behind sediments which reconstitute with each onslaught, each reiterative wave being an arabesque that composes a complex, protean mosaic.

I left him eventually because there was no choice. I felt threatened, my very being imperiled. Of course i was inconsolable, frantic with whatever anchoring i had in life. But to go was sane, to stay irrational.

Leaving helped. It restored my self esteem, reflected to me, for a change, my own becalmed, tranquil countenance. I cannot inhabit another person's myth and version of reality. Much rather i'd be myself.

As each wave juts out, its composition varies. Though ostensibly similar, these concatenations of roiling waves each carry their own imprint, their own story, their own myth of the consciousness of the sea.

The severed clouds let in a fitful ray of sunlight which seems opalescent. The shapes of the clouds are gossamer, durable. The day portends rain with all the elements of the mythopoeia of what constitutes rain, set out. But the clouds can blow away, the wind settle down , the birds quieten  and the grass unmoving..

Against the harshness of reality are the significations i impose on it. More than the reality ,which is constructed, it is my being which is intransigent. Wholeness is not a chimera but it needs faith. It also necessitates a shattering of the old mythologies. And then what- a new myth? a new reality? 

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