I think of Jonathan Livingston Seagull (in case you don’t know him, long live the Internet). I think of wings. I think of a huge sense of freedom.
Therein too lies control, be it of a very different dimension than in the phrase ‘I have everything under control’.
It’s less evident. People do sometimes mind the word ‘control’ out of reasons (I mean: reasons which themselves lead to aversion) that strongly… control them. They can hardly deal with it. It’s difficult for them to get beyond. They wonder what ‘must be done’. They carry within them an idea of freedom as a gilded cage. They don’t want to be controlled … but they themselves do so.
No, I don’t do this. Yes, I do that.
Really letting go of control is having a passion.
This encompasses an urge to self-commitment, to self-transcendence, the ‘knowing that you are already there’ and then more and more there.
That’s not a question of filling up. It has nothing to do with filling.
It is Eros in this world. A creation.
It is transcending this world itself.
Even if death is standing in between, one can feel it at the other side of the universe. It is a balance that bursts, a sea that is everywhere, a presence that knows neither time nor space, an urge that has no wondering, that is only itself, an obsession that is the essence of life.
When push comes to shove, living really deeply is a form of obsession when looked upon in a positive way …
in total freedom.
Anyway, it’s always difficult. One can feel an ‘obsession’ in the manifestation of something that comes from infinitely deeper. Then it looks like something inconceivable is happening. One way or another. ‘One’, who wants the uncontrollable becoming controllable, sees only the controllable that is not controllable at all, and forms an ‘opinion’.
An ‘opinion’ may have four walls and a roof and no door and even no windows.
No sense of freedom anymore and no discipline and no views over vast landscapes and no hurricane that flies out from inside your body and mind and no Beauty and no creation.
No whispering In the ear of a beloved one.
No last dance where people are still longing for.
No “I am here for you and just let all the rest be as it is”, at a setting sun somewhere in the distance and yet completely here.
Because all this is an obsession.
And no coercion of any kind. Everything is allowed.
And no coercion of any kind. Nothing is needed.
And no coercion of any kind. Everything lives around you and within.
You are going ‘beyond control’ and you find it in a different way,
like an ongoing imbalance in which you are always finding a different balance at a new level. You know and you don’t know where it’s going and that in itself is totally OK.
You cede ego-control to your deeper self.
In the story of Jonathan:
You fly towards a rock that is as hard as all hard rocks together. In this case there is no other way than to… let go. Your ego will be crushed. If you hang onto your ego, you will be crushed. So you really have to let go.
And that is good.
And then you continue flying. Through the rock. Through matter. Flying as if you have been there all along. The sun is shining on the sea. The sea is shining under the sun. Clouds in the sky. Lines at the horizon.
A fond memory that makes you tremendously happy.
You are shining.
A fond memory that you carry with you, even if it didn’t really happen.
You are flying.
A dance of which one may say that it will always be what the story is about.
Wings of silver.
You are flying on forever.
Who you were. Who you are.