In a continuous outpouring, continuous transformation, open mouth, open belly and sex, we take and live and give and then fetishize life with our perceptions of spring and winter and birth, marriage and death. But we do not live until we learn its ragas, its music, its laws, sounds and spaces. It is the final mastery, this true submission to the laws of life, the only one we need consent to with joy.
Sometimes, when the laws we find are invisible or too unsettling, we create religions out of other structures — discourses of science, faith, society, freedom — and worship and submit to those laws instead. Familiar, loving gods are more soothing than inexorable laws of life, for we may adorn our gods and god-spaces. Those are close enough, labyrinthine and inanimate. But to know the first laws –and the many sutras of how we may unite with, love and couple with life — is the task.
There is nothing else to love, no one else to want, unless they personify Life for us. Of course, that’s when we fall in love and still live.
And before the submission, long before and long after, there is the combat, the dance, the drama that must be played out. One contending with the other, to win, to lose, with skill, without honor, with a delicate violence.