Love’s enthusiasms unleashes
Love’s enthusiasms unleash the tongues reticence. Love
does not care if its utterances are inopportune. Should
Jesus bend his knee to Pilate? Should the ocean kowtow to the creek or April’s greening pretend February’s grey?
There is a lion inside you; don’t let him be slave to an ant. What is the Lion? Your love … uncaused, divine, extravagant in its unseemly lavishness … The ant? Oh, it is body mind’s ceaseless demands—puppet of the tyrant called desire.
Desire shapes wanting as demand; love shapes appearing as offering.
Let me tell you a story: Once a small village was in trouble from invaders. Prayers and pleas reached the ear of a divine Lion; the Lion roared, leapt into the fray scattering brigands left and right. Problem solved; but
the villagers were also terrified of the Lion.
Sometimes the cold comfort of known fears is less terrifying than that golden maned Mysterium Tremendum. The Lion wished to protect, but knew his strength and power frightened, so He submitted to being caged.
The first submission is always that of the divine. The villagers felt safe, no one dared attack a village with its own Lion … but … sometimes … that cage made from compassion’s gesture chaffed. Sometimes a thunderstorm has to shake the sky. Sometimes the cold mountain winds must blow. Sometimes a Lion must roar. And so …
… one day the Lion flexed just the claws of his right paw. The bamboo cage shattered. The villagers ran screaming. Hunters picked up guns. Legislators made new rules. Mothers protected their children …
Attachment to the body is a bamboo cage. Love wants to destroy it. Mind you, not the body—just the prison. The villagers are your clingings to smallness. Bureaucrats and legislators are your bargaining. Parents are your hopes and fears.
Love is a reckless disheveled Lion. Freedom is a windblown wanderer never settling down in the cold comforts of worlds made from birth and death.
Love’s enthusiasm unleashes the tongue’s reticence.
Let longing’s disorderly prayers pour out. Be the one who doesn’t run
when the bamboo cage breaks. - t.k.