My well has run dry and I cannot even describe the sheer Terror & Anguish this brings. My whole life is in the balance upon the tip of the pen. I never even imagined that I would lose my desire to create. A part of me that has always been so essential to my well-being is seemingly lost, gone. And I would suffer even the most unimaginable horrors just to get it back-my chi-my life force. Although this horror is, in and of itself near the mark of unimaginability and Despair. There is something in the human soul which clamors for elucidation & expression. It is a need next to none. Does this reside only within the soul of the Artiste or in everyone? Everything is at a standstill as long as the heart remains unstirred. It is a nothingness and existential sense of nullity which even Sartre or Nietszche never touched upon. For between Being & Nothingness lies an even deeper abyss. Perhaps its name is Apathy. Or perhaps it is Mother to Apathy-Ambivalence. We can never escape non-being, but can we ever embrace being? Yet we must, if the Void is ever to have any meaning. Every force produces its equal and opposite reaction and not strictly in the Newtonian and phenomenological sense. Meaning itself derives from the union of opposites. And perhaps this is a gift, for nothing-not even nihility itself-is ever truly meaningless. Although this does not lessen our pain in the face of it. But the presence of the pain, parthenogenically born from our sense of barrenness, futility and emptiness nevertheless suggests a fullness & abundance of Being which is always there, even but if only as images within the ever-envisaging human psyche. Hence, even Nothingness is always, quite Something. And oftentimes, our pain is, in itself, the salve for our pain. For as long as one is feeling, or as long as one is conscious of something-one is Being, one exists, is alive, has substantiality. This is often why we cling to our pain at the fear of never finding relief, or perhaps that we will? We must have something to hold onto, even if this thing which we cling to is, in actuality, a losing of our grip. To lose always includes a gain and a gain, an equally commensurate loss. This is why the ability to hold onto Joy should be regarded as nothing less than the miraculous display of an inner fortitude and Virtue of Sysyphean task. For it is indeed, a superhuman feat, belonging to the leagues of all ontological argument, where the Idea always presupposes the Actuality. For truly, there is no evidence that Joy is a more valid and noteworthy emotion than that of Sorrow, especially in a world of such fleeting felicity. The doctrines of Nihilism are very seductive, yet still, when we must inhabit a mind and heart which often cannot choose between Equanimity or Struggle. To choose between one Truth or the other which is just as much of a verity-is at the heart of the human condition and the various configuration of trilemma and seemingly endlessly regressive doctrines and Byzantium architecture we must decipher and navigate. The attendant Fear is often so great, that neither nor is secure. For just as soon as we wholly embrace one Truth, its equal yet antimonous opposite becomes all too manifest. And then we are ravaged and lost once again. But this truth is exactly what makes all forms of bigotry thrive. Thus must we learn to embrace it all, although no one person can even know or see it all. This is the true act of Faith, where Ambiguity must become the God we worship daily before the indestructible Shrine Of Exigency. And learning how to persist in this cruel task without becoming totally adrift is a lesson that only the blessed can fully assimilate. For not unlike our love, belief and conviction must be spread just thin enough that it can maintain its clarity of purpose and efficacy, without losing its viscosity. For we can become One only when we embrace it all with equal measures of awe and expectancy. Then we are secure and left with the Ultimate and most essential task of all: Becoming all that we are. Between Being & Nothingness lies a Perfection already operant behind it all. We
are complete. We
are whole. We
are meaning. We
are the Universe. Life is in love with us. Will we marry it? Oh, we already have-even in our hours of Despair. Nihility is an illusion. It is all full beyond measure. The only Void which exists is the Void of a Void.
