second-hand news--and how to take it

John said...
I understand. One risks throwing pearls to swine. But swine look very nice in pearls. They glimmer in the mud. Some of them, after a awhile, take off their pig costumes.

Or...

Sometimes a spirtital experience is like having surgery. You hesitate to remove the bandages until you know that the healing has been completed. And even then...

Or...

You risk trivializing your experience by sharing it as you would any daily anecdote. Somehow you want to preface, "This thing I'm about to share with you, please, do not take lightly. For it has changed my life. If you would know me, then know that I need you to "feel" what I'm about to say. But what happens is that people may skim like they always do.

But...

I have found that despite the aforementioned apprehensions, it is best to shine with all your might. Forgoe Kipling's advice to be humble. Just shine, baby! Writing is all practice. You never get to the point of complete satisfaction. Also you won't always get the reaction that you're looking for.

But...

Sometimes...sometimes...it all works out. You turn around to someone with tears in their eyes, moved by you. You turn around and someone is laughing, entertained by you. You realize that there are no pigs and that you have no pearls. You have no time - every moment of possession was an illusion. It is then that I heave ho. Give it up.

I look in the mirror, see a pig. See a man. See a being. See nothing. See everything. Whoops, I'm wearing pearls - who gave them to me. I forgot. Pearls all around, anonymous pearls. I will scatter any pearl that I find - quickly! before it's too late.

With my diamond seconds, golden minutes, platinum hours, and titanium days, I will find the pearls, throw them high, and be contented to know that my life was filled with jewels. Jewels of my temporary possession; never really mine to take or to give; but they came my way - I passed them on. The more I gave away, the more that landed at my feet.

Maybe...

Maybe this is the way it is. Maybe not. Maybe I became so engaged in metaphor that, at best, I've a muddy pearl.

Maybe...

Muddy pearls is all we'll ever have.

c said...
well, does a lump in one's throat count?
I hope you live your life the way you write.
Thanks John. Thanks for getting it.