The Eleven Day Tale: Day 8

The Eighth Epiphany: Be Loved

I am discovering that as the ongoing revelation of these Epiphanies winds toward its conclusion, they interlace more and more. As I translate them from electricity in grey matter to electricity in digital ether, I find their individuality becoming as challenging to discern as raindrops on a tin roof; eleven drops, all falling together, apart. These epiphanies are revealing themselves as contradictory veils: enfolding you in dazzling silk, to protect and enlighten and entertain, even as they fall away. Perhaps Salomé had eleven veils…?

‘Appreciating the pieces’ leads to a widening of the abilities of the heart and mind to exercise the liberating abandon of emotional response (spontaneous and premeditated) alongside the grounding nature of the twin necessities of curiosity-inspired scrutiny and dispassionate observation; the ‘Appreciation’ enables not only a strong and maintainable balance between feeling and logic, but the ability to utilize this balance, this strength. Or, in fewer words, you have x-ray vision and you can read people’s minds. More or less.

By now, with the previous seven doors epiphanied ajar, you feel a glorious wonder at being able to discern the latent beauty that exists in almost everyone (even deep down inside many rat bastards who do not deserve to possess beauty, though it is often not by their choice that they contain it). The key, however, is that this exercise in perspective is not for the sake of those who are ugly of soul: it is not for the absentee parent or the lecherous boss, nor is it for the violent neighbor or the very, very bad driver backing up on the highway; it is not for the thief, the burglar, the liar, or the coward; it is not for the bigot, the racist, or the sexist; it is not for the rapist or the murderer (two whose trace of beauty may simply not exist); it is not for the zealously religious who are convinced of your doom, it is not for the uncompromisingly political who carve up your country and your body with equal relish, it is not for the unabashedly greedy; and it is not for the sake of the most undeserving of all, the ignorant (and their cur brethren, the stubborn, stupid, and unwilling to learn). This ability to distill beauty from the most obscuring vulgarity is for you. It is tapable, unutilized power. It is pages for your library. It is clever, sharper knowledge, that you can employ in your own expanding, exciting existence.

This ability to penetrate the darkness in others and discover their rare, divine facets is a transformative power, for it gives their beauty – that is often neglected, or, sadly, unknown to themselves – to you. You search for it there, deep in their core, you find it, you seize it, you rescue it, you store it, you hone it, and you increase your own beauty through the challenge of surviving the darkness in all others.

You possess this capacity already (we all do this, daily, this tapping of each other, if unconsciously and on a much smaller scale). So why do you not use it consciously, consistently, and boldly? What holds you back?

You are hiding from you. You are afraid of yourself.

You must eschew your concept of self-esteem. Self-esteem has become a tool of society, media, politics and corporate shark-marketing. Your height, your weight, your age, your accent, your complexion, your hair color, your nationality, your education level, your career desire, your athleticism, your tastes in music, in art, in books, movies, and cuisine, your choice of toothpaste and deodorant and the color and bulk of your car (bigger is better – just ask a tumor), your religious beliefs, your political leanings, and the frequency with which you use the word ‘fuck’ have all become playing pieces in society’s favorite game, JUDGEMENT. In the game of Judgement, the goal is to find flaws in others that can be easily exploited while concurrently masking your own flaws from society and from yourself. Anyone can play – the game is open to all ages, there is no limit to the number of players, and the timer is the length of your life. Of course, we’re all playing right now – and not paying attention to the killer punchline, the obvious plot twist, the big HaHa: no one wins. No one wins.

You must re-imagine everything you think you know about your self-worth. Step out of your mental apartment, now; I have something to show you from the hill on this endlessly plush lawn. Step toward me, where I stand in the light. Step toward my embrace. The eighth epiphany throws my arms around you, and with my lips it kisses your wet cheek: Be Loved. Be Loved By You.

In a song called “We Got Married,” Paul McCartney sings the lines, “It’s not just a loving machine/It doesn’t work out if you don’t work at it.” This is in reference to marriage, but perpetually for the 13-odd years since I first heard the song I have had it rattling around in my brain-pan, wanting to mean more. Now I know that it does: It refers to self-love as well as any other, perhaps in advance of any other. You can not decide you’re ‘an okay person’ and leave the idea there to desiccate. You have to re-evaluate yourself with everything and everyone you encounter. You must keep the experience of being inside your own skin, firing off the mini-lightning bolts in your own grey matter, exciting, enlightening, and, hopefully, enjoyable. Take a daily gander at that randy old anima coursing around in your wetware, spunking like a kitten after a Gypsy moth through your bloodstream and tissues, and make sure it’s not chasing it’s own tail; or worse, hiding from mirrors.

The fears arise now. What will I see? What if I hate myself? What if I am just fundamentally loathsome?? Acknowledgment of one’s flaws and inconsistencies is not about instigating shame, placing blame, or forcing change. It is about understanding yourself and appreciating the shimmery glimmers of your many imperfect gems alongside your most refined jewels. It is about taking pride in all of your sparkle! Ah, yes – it is about sparkle, not shine. It is not about being a symphony – it is about being one well-whistled note.

Train your love to be mightier than your fear, hatred, loathing, anger, and despair. People make the mistake of interpreting this lesson as meaning that you should replace those energies with love, to which I say, “Damn, what?? Hells, no!” I will never love that rat bastard who is driving 54 MPH in the fast lane and clogging all of the highway with his senior citizen swerving – but I will love myself a bit more if I scream at him only within my car, then smile and wave bright-eyed as I pass him going 80. I let him feel, somehow, a bit more loved (by alleviating his fear that for about 13 minutes I was projecting into his mind the lurid phantasmagoria of his narrowly-escaped roadside slaughter).

Be loved. By you first; then worry about the rest. So many people end up alienated and/or alone because they can’t imagine reciprocal love. It boils down to this: companionship takes just as much exercise as the effort that must be put into maintaining the body – you have to constantly work at it (see Paul McCartney, above), more and moreso as you get older, and you and those around you change, age, and slowly but surely run out of time to be together. Your life remaining is growing shorter – and you must decide how – and on whom – you will spend your minutes. Don’t waste another moment on misgivings about your own beauty.

Go grab your anima. Stroke it’s fur, pick it up, and carry it, like a baby, to the mirror. Take a good long look at the two of you. Rub its belly, make it laugh. It loves you.

Now purse your lips and blow.

Become one well-whistled note.

Boy, are you easy to love.

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