the separation and the cosmic breath

So I actually wrote this I think last week- just some thoughts I'm running over in my head these days.

Before there was sin, there was darkness, and there was light. There was a division- that third part of the two, that knife-edge thinness of time that was the moment of change itself, distinct from either half yet defining them. There was out, and in, inspiration and exhalation, and waters separating the land and air separating the waters. There was distinction, there was “other,” there were parts, that made a whole, that was perfect. And the Divine Creator proclaimed it good. There was yin and yang, by the Creator’s hand- male and female, and it was very good. There were days, separated by different types of light and darkness- but light and darkness were in them both. The darkness was not evil, and was not feared. It was a part of the good, just as the light was. It sprang forth from the essence of God.

In each thing there are two. In the human body, two of everything- like a perfect mirror, folding in on itself at midline to spring out again on the other side. Even when it seems there is one, there are two; the mouth leads to the anus, the umbilicus corresponds with an older woman who has borne and her mother before her, and the genitalia with another set, on another body. In this moment, when the latter fuse, the two become one, and are in their own way, mirrors of each other all over again, providing the coupling which reinforces the endless doubling in all creation. And from such a union new life is made.

In all this there is a balance, as well as a repetition that becomes to each their own circadian rhythm. There are things that are the same, always the same, and instead of boredom, joy or laughter or comfort is inspired. It is enjoyable to listen to a favorite song multiple times, and not boring because one has heard it before. The fact that one has heard it before makes it all the more enjoyable. The words, the melody are known by the listener, and it is this sharing of the moment of the song, already known, that is most satisfying. The same can be held true with an often-read book, or frequently watched film; it is pleasant because of the very fact that the observer knows what is going to happen next.

There are areas in which this is much more simply defined, in the basic life rhythms of the human body, or any living body for that matter. There is a moment where the heart beats. Then, a moment of unbeating, and then a beat again. If there is a stress, there must be an unstress, a pause, a caesura, a holding in before the expelling. That is what separates the push- the pull. However, in these instances, the unbeat, the unstress is rarely if ever considered. The pulse is what is wanted, not the unpulse. But without the pull, the push would be indistinguishable from itself. If everything were one push all the time, it would in effect be nothing, because there would be nothing to identify that anything was pushing at all.

So there is the step, and the non-step. All of this can be broken down, into the five parts: heel strike, toe strike, heel lift, toe lift, and once again heel strike, completing a cycle. Coming back to the beginning again, to repeat, repeat, repeat. The cycle itself would not be possible without the necessity of repetition, and everything presents itself as a cycle. There is birthing, living, giving birth, dying, to become food for worms, which nourish soil, which feeds the animal, which is slaughtered by the human for consumption. There is a pushing up from the ground, to return to it, to provide for the next group, who will be incapable of doing anything beyond the last. Immortality is found by being part of the cycle.