What is possible when we allow intimacy to arise in tenderness, without the contraction of phenomena into “object” , “desire”, “intention”, or “emotion”.. just the sweetness of being, plain, ordinary, energy arising effortlessly, like the subtle push of wind in the leaf, on pond the strider… ?
What is possible if we can love what is, as it arises, the effortlessness of tenderness, the lightness of being?
What is possible if love as an idea did not exist, and when we spoke its name, it drifted away, lonely, like the sea breeze off the coast, without a signifier, without a signified, without significance?
What is possible, if we settle for just this tiny moment of tenderness, and then let it pass, like dew under the rising sun?
Beautiful! May I sing this?
….the deep well of his eye….the hot air of his breath….such tenderness.
Yes, an enacted song of graceful pulsing tenderness with gentle pace, and a lightness of love…
What’s possible then is a sense of in-betweenness in which the trees opposite my windows sensuously snuggle into wind. And when with people a silver tingling appears in the air that makes the content of the conversation somehow brilliantly unimportant, as we snuggle into the in-between as the trees snuggle into the wind.
Does it change your feeling for this video if I tell you that the stallion in the video was having an orgasm during this filming? At the end, when he “nibbles” my belly, and then you hear his foot stomp once, and then he shakes his head … that is when the ejaculation occurs.
How does this shape your interpretation?
B
Wonderfully… it “explains” what also shaped my response: and why I felt the tree snuggling the branches into the wind as a sensuous happening, where often its a purely esthetic pleasure when I experience that “immediacy” watching the dancing trees.