That which frees us is also that which binds us.

It’s locked. It seems that love is not the key, it is the chain that locks the door to freedom. Attachment is not emancipation; we misunderstand ourselves and each other so deeply, so fundamentally that the one thing that could possibly save us becomes a burden of confusion and misrepresented or displaced desire and longing under which we are all ultimately crushed. We’re all just so many human beings, flawed, lonely and being intractably, intransigently human (what else could we do?); see how we are all at heart and in essence destined to be such silly, silly confused humans, all of us. Love is always a letting-go and fundamental openness, not a possessing or ownership and in this lies the enigma of our most intimate and unrelenting failure: we must set free the one thing that in possessing (or through aspiring to acquire) that we can directly experience freedom through; this is also the impossible and mischievous riddle of a Gordian Knot of psychological liberty and spiritual enlightenment.

2 replies on “Locked”

Love is the golden ball-and-chain we polish lovingly. It’s the cage whose unlocked door we never try because we believe it’s locked. It’s the fiction we marry, but then freedom is highly over-rated; it leads ultimately to loneliness, not that there’s anything wrong with loneliness or freedom but we were never built for them.

Liked by 1 person

Well said. We all find ourselves playing a game of neurochemical entrainment and acquired cultural expectation. The distance and difference between the reality and the aspiration is quite probably another example of the ways in which the world as a gestalt generates useful entropy through which to cultivate complexity and productive emotional, psychological or cultural turbulence. This space between these facts is where we live and its dissonance inhabits us, as us.

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