I have to admit, it shocked me to witness the universe's change in attitude. I did not expect to have the ability, even if just for a moment, to spontaneously use my subconscious to create a real-world vision of perfect beauty and love. I've wondered since if I had seen Gina for the first time from any other location with a different perspective if I would have noticed the willingness of the universe to creatively collaborate with me. As an artist, I long to create with others so, I mean, the opportunity to work with the untapped power of the universe to create a being made strictly from particles of passion (Pa), joy (Jy), and love (Lv)? Some artists have aspirations of making it in, say, New York. To show work in an elite setting, a setting considered a pinnacle? Understandable, but there's something to be said for omnipotence.
Naturally, I was drawn toward my creation. As I neared, she became more and more radiant. Her face came into focus and she sent a smile that rearranged molecules throughout my body. I was subsequently recreated by my creation as something that exceeded anything I ever imagined I could be. I understood in a flash why a god might think so highly of its creations and why an artist might believe a particularly extraordinary work of art exceeds her own abilities and, through this recognition, uses her creation to develop a deeper appreciation of life. In the process, the artist learns how to live and, perhaps, the universe learns how to love.
Gina's eyes, powdered blue with streaks of lightning emanating from liquid black opals, showed me worlds within myself that defied every angle of my sense of "how things are" and even "how things could be." I saw it all, everything good that there was, is, or ever will be. And I saw that she saw more than that even, more than I could ever see, and tears flowed from my eyes as I kept walking toward her, pulled by the gravity of her love. I stopped within a foot of her and simply gazed into her eyes. She never blinked but her eyes seemed to glisten brighter and brighter as I looked. The passage of time became a ridiculous concept.
Thinking about it now, I wonder if that moment exists eternally? If all moments exist without end, not as they are, but as they are created anew and anew.
Thinking back about falling in love, it seems as if it's the height of our being. The purpose of our being. And perhaps it is just to ensure that individuals continue procreating to renew the species again and again because that's the design of life, to recreate itself indefinitely, adapting to changing environments by creating new versions of itself more suited to meet those changes.
But why is the story told that way if it is felt in such a radically different way? What is the purpose of telling the story of love from an analytical or critical point of view? To control it? To manipulate it? To what end?
Gina spoke, her voice like a harp and her breath fluttering into my chest like a hummingbird, "You are beaming." I shook my head yes and tried to keep my heart from exploding through my ribs. Gina laughed at me and shook her head. Her strawberry hair was still whipping in the wind like a cotton-candy inferno.
The light was dimming and as it did her face took on a more earthy realness. Less like a fire angel or a phoenix and more like an adventurous, cocksure urban sprite. Somehow her body moved without moving, gracefully energetic, exuding both ease and desire. She seemed to look right through me, as if I wasn't there at times, as if there was something in the universe more interesting than I.
I realized she was watching the play on the street spill over into the park. Tony, filled with joy, ran into Maria on the playground. I turned back to Gina. She opened her mouth to say something but then stopped. It seemed like she either lost the words or lost the nerve. She's human after all! For some reason I was overjoyed by this realization. It was a little intimidating being in the presence of absolute perfection. Don't the cracks and fissures in the Pieta give the beauty of the sculpture a soulfulness it otherwise lacked? Plus, I wondered if she might disappear at any moment.
My heart, instead of trying to rip through my chest, relaxed in the warmth of appreciative breathing. The sensation of impending explosion along with the paradoxical obliteration of time ceased.
Her mouth dangled open as she stared at me and then her the expression on her face shifted, becoming softer, much more gentle. Her hair settled down and the wind followed suit. Her dress came to rest against her body. She blinked her eyes several times. Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. Her smile widened as she exhaled.
"That was exhilarating, but, damn, that took a little bit out of me."
"I'll bet it did. There were quarks popping in and out of existence all around you. I thought we might all be obliterated by an explosion of love--and I was kind of hoping for it--but you showed a little humanity there a second ago."
"I know, right? It was like, man, I am really going to set the world afire if I don't take a deep breath. I mean, I love you all so I'd prefer not to incinerate you ... even if it would be a perfect way to go."
"You know, since we're talking about death, can I just ask why?"
Gina sighed. "I can't really say. I'm still trying to figure it all out myself. I mean, I got pretty good working with certain techniques, but as time and space changes beyond my wildest imaginings and certainly as life began developing I've found myself at a loss. I just don't know where to go from here. I did not expect self-aware beings to develop in the way that you did. Humanity, I mean. It's so ... ugly!"
"Sadly, I agree with you. Humanity is incredibly ugly much of the time."
"Why don't you love more?"
"Not very many of us have learned how to love. Heck, I'm not sure very many even know what love means."
"It doesn't matter what you know. It's what you do."
"Unfortunately, you're wrong about that."
"No, I specifically engineered the universe to result in self-aware beings who willingly choose to love one another all the time. Every single moment. All of your internal struggles are the result of your spiritual misalignments. They're along your spine, by the way, so stop with the hocus-pocus beliefs and do some yoga for crissakes. Breathing is pretty important, you know? Drink plenty of liquids. Make sure you're eating healthy food. Actively engage your creativity."
"I did. I mean, I created you, after all."
"No, I created you."
"Yeah, but I created you first."
"Ha!" Gina almost fell on the ground laughing. "You created me first? Oh, you have got to be kidding. I rearranged your entire cellular composition, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what do you think you did to me when I came into being here? You just chose to rearrange the physics of your perception so that you could see me. You certainly didn't create me in the fashion you believe."
"Wow. That's heavy."
"Yeah. Now you're getting it."
God caressed my cheek with her left hand. For some reason, it tasted like sugar and then my legs turn to rubber. I swooned. Gina scooped her right arm around my body and caught me as I nearly fainted. I looked up at her face shrouded by a wild mane of blonde fuchsia against the backdrop of a purple dark sky. She raised me up and as I steadied myself on my feet she leaned in to kiss me.
You know that scene near the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey.? Yeah, it wasn't anything like that. I just felt the moist softness of her lips against mine, the pressure of them changing as she moved them, puckering, unpuckering, opening, a flicker of her tongue and then the fullness of her lips curled around mine, a rhythmic dance that develops into a language all its own. I felt Gina's fingers digging into my back and gradually working their way down, massaging even the last bit of tension from my body. I lost track of everything but the physical sensation of pure pleasure.
When I finally came out of the trance I found myself in the Flying Crow Pose. The God who created me who I recreated who recreated me was nowhere to be found. I was everywhere, though. Everyone on the street was a different version of me. I saw myself in everyone. And I loved me.
I wanted to ask the different versions of me how I was doing, if I could use some help in any way. Sometimes I said yes to myself and sometimes I said no. It seemed to depend on how the particular me had developed. I felt tremendous joy when I ran into myself when I was happy and generous and sadness when I saw myself filled with sorrow or fear.
I still don't know how to describe the emotion I feel when I see cruelty and indifference, though. Something akin to mourning or grief, I suppose.
I've been wondering if suffering is a necessary ingredient for love. Everyone I've ever met who is kind or generous has also told me that the world is a vicious, cruel place and that it might just be a miracle that anyone cares at all. But they always defy their own logic by acting with love toward others. It often seems to be the people who have the fewest reasons to love who demonstrate the most extraordinary abilities to love abundantly. Why is that?
