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Worshipping Lali

Life resists categories

The noble gent on his tastefully furnished steed is no more superior to his scruffy servant than a child is superior to his river-surface reflection. Life will not be categorized, beaten down into office cubicles, or decided by who or what breaks the red ribbon at the finish line – because there are no starting signals or finish lines. We all sit eminently at the circle of life, dream-sharing with the effusive orgies of possibility moving in and around us, journeying to arrive home – over and over again.

And while it certainly is beautiful to suggest that everyone has a place or a purpose, we must remember that prior to our containment in these notions we are powerful…beyond measure…so powerful that we defy place and location…we defy purpose and redemption. Purpose is not what gives us value. We give purpose value. In a sense, we ennoble the transient purposes we occupy – like the lingam ennobles the yoni (and vice versa). We impose ‘purpose’ on ourselves, mostly unknowingly, to contain our inscrutable vastness. Nothing could be more liberating than knowing we are held, accepted, celebrated, and enchanted with ornaments beyond our wildest imaginations.

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Falling might very well be flying – without the tyranny of coordinates.