Paradox: that’s what we’ve got. It’s not something unique that shows up on occasion, it’s the whole, wild, everyday display.
My relative offers deep insight into his friend’s abuse of his body, then drinks himself into a stupor, displaying no understanding of self-care.
The Texas floods sweep away this family, but not that one. The tornado slices through an Oklahoma town—half of it is pulverized, the other half remains untouched.
A terrorist group, in the name of their God, brutalizes children and sledge-hammers ancient sacred sites, while monks chant, meditate, and pray for the awakening of all beings.
Many people busy themselves with asking why.
I find all of it without meaning—the apparent good or the apparent bad. It’s just the phantasmagorical, endless, erupting Now.
The terrible, magnificent Now.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2015