Aloneness has a Janus character. One face seems grounded and content; the other full of fear, watching the specter of an empty universe. Being alone -- strong and content -- depends on being able to hear the oceanic connection to "the whole." When we hear only silence, or the thrumming of an inchoate world, the aloneness is empty and frightening.
It's as if we were out to sea, trying to catch the sounds of a ship-to-shore radio. At times voices can be heard, and we know we are somehow connected. Then we get nothing but squeals and static. In truth we choose what we listen to.
No comments:
Post a Comment