Greetings all,
I am writing a new book, "Master Play." It is a book of aphorisms. Here is section zero. I will be writing a series of other sections over the next few weeks.
Your feedback would be useful!
Take care, Caretakers!
Daniel
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Master Play
ZERO
Mastery is sacred play.
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Play is study.
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The kingdom of heaven is like a master who told each of his servants to build him a home. The lazy one worked grudgingly and cut corners, thinking "My master is rich and has enough already." The good servant enjoyed the work, and studied intently, and threw his heart into his work, such that his master caught the passion and helped him build it, and soon everybody made a mansion out of what was to only be a summer home.
In the end, the master said to the lazy servant, "The house you built is now your home. I am setting you free and you may retire here." To the good servant he said the same.
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The Jewish line, as in the linear genealogy, is a powerful form by which they dominate the world. The Hindu circle is unsurpassed as religious symbol. These the two source religions of the world.
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All the world remains on the surface, as the surface of a wrinkled brain. Depth, and eternal depth, comes from touching a few key points, and triangulating down.
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Cinderella mastered life through drudgery, became royalty through chores.
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Veil beauty and the veil will be beautiful; lock up beauty and the door will be beautiful.
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The God is a holiday by which we celebrate our days and give life gratitude.
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Who masters my words shall never taste death.
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Sacrifice is investment. Every seed shall grow. Were death to eat our semen, death would be impregnated.
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We may find our apotheosis through any form – mastering tennis or the yoyo. For each is all, and this is also that. We come to heaven through any path. Even the path of folly, is pursued to the end, leads to the sublime cathedral.
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Perfection is easy. When we come into our own, life becomes perpetual triumph. We fail, and we fail upwards. Even defeat is noble for the noble. Win or lose, the master shines.
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Let us become amateurs. Let us become professionals. Let us become masters, and wizards, gods, and kosmos. Let us become all.
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Ama gives each of us a gift from her flesh. Were that as small as a crumpled rag, if we master the gift, we master life, and become worthy of Ama. So use your small gift with verve, believe in yourself as she believes in you. Whether exalted or pathetic, your gift will bring you there.
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Ama speaks to us through the stranger, through the coincidence, through the random word. Random and Chance are gods, child and grand child of Lissidy. Catch them in their prank.
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God is an interface by which we put our hands on the mechanism of the cosmos. A face is all the sense organs in a mask of expressivity. This tongue, the organ of taste and speech, of tasteful speech, by which, through sip, we gain sapience, and wisdom, is the keeper of the face. Knowing God face to face means looking in the mirror long and hard. Mirror meditate, daily, for 20 minutes at a go. Talk to yourself and let Ama use your inner voice to talk to you.
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The tadpole itches where the legs will sprout. So too do we itch, are irritated and bothered in life, till we split our shell like a crayfish and gain new organs.
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The softness gives birth to hardness. The hardness sings a soft song. When snails make love, the let softness enfold the other like lips and tongue. Hermaphroditic, they fructify each other.
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Jesus his parables, Socrates his myths, me my sayings. Jesus his gospel, Moses his Torah, Muhammad his Koran, Smith his Doctrines and Covenants, Emerson his essays. We each master a form. These allays my form. What is yours?
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We each produce an infinite text, utter semen of infinite meaning, birther of worlds.
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Each person I know creates a shared language with me. Every friend shares a tongue with me. My wife this discourse about child rearing, which is hidden parable for all we do. This friend the shared story telling. Ama erotic poetry. Every person shares a tongue with me. Were they even to curse me, that would be a start.
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Give your all to love, pour one hundred percent. Yahweh may have mocked the God who required the first born, but only once was a man willing to give Him the first born. Ama asks nothing of you. So give her everything.
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Semen is liquid fire. Let our words be ejaculations by which we create worlds.
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Create a sacred altar from whatever you hold dearest, be it a tennis racket or your writing desk. Invent rituals, libations. Use a razor to carve sacred names on your possessions. Bless and baptize and consecrate your holy instruments.
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Master life. All of life. Pour your full being in your immediate task. You love Ama in all you do, in your job as well as brushing your teeth. So do everything perfectly – perfection is easy. Jesus said Be Ye Perfect and also My Yoke Is Easy. Know then that you can do all you envy, you accomplish your greatest dreams, by focusing with mindful deliberation on all you do. Start now, start today. This is it. This is your moment, the knock on the door of your apotheosis. Nothing has been a waste, nothing squandered, but you've set gifts for yourself with every game and obsession and waste of time you ever invested in. Time to pick up the scraps and get serious. Time is now. Apotheosis beckons. Eternity bows. Vivoce!
-- R µ Я --
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www.perfectidius.com
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