‘Crazy’ is often associated with love. Crazy for you, crazy in love, head over heels. I think at times you have to be crazy. You have to let go. You have to lose your footing and let yourself float above it all. What do I mean by footing? Grounded- on this earth- in the soil- in the body- aware of the parameters and boundaries; capabilities and limitations.
But we are more than that. We are more than earth. Dust to dust- but with breath. The floating is the breath; the erratic movement is the crazy. Without that, we are just a rock. Don’t get me wrong: rocks are great. They hold up giant landforms and caverns and walls and monuments. They tuck magically into your pocket. They are tossed freely into wells with wishes. But there are limits to a rock. There are limits even to the water that flows over them, to the fish that swim among them, to the bears that lumber across them.
In the air, the atmosphere, it keeps going. It is limitless. Once released from a jar, a vessel, a set of lungs- the air just goes. And if nothing stops it, it dissipates back into source as it reaches the heavens. I don’t know why this would be considered crazy. I guess because our bodies can’t fly — at least not in their current state. And those that think they can … have fallen to their death.
But once we cut our tether, our anchor, our umbilical cord, our solar plexus — we are limitless. We have no need for food or water or even sun. We are the sun. We become the energy in its purest form. Is it so crazy to want to be that? Odorless, tasteless, colorless, radiant light? What do I mean by light? Mystery. Indefinable being. Rushing with abandon. Plundering the galaxy for beauty — and leaving behind even more in its wake: like a vast comet. I don’t know what I mean by any of this, but I like it. I want to be it. I crave the nature of beautiful nothingness. And everythingness.