Who we are and...
who we are.
When I give you my hand, there is so much going on...
There is the movement of billions of cells entangling each other, protected by soft skin, there is the me and you that will never meet, separated by who we are: different embodiments of histories and memories, brains and perspectives, hormones and directions... we'll never meet, but we communicate: through words, through touching hands and curious eyes...
But we do meet: when I see your beauty, I can't really understand it, grasp it, explain it, even to myself. But I see it nevertheless, not with the eyes of the body, but with what Plato called the eyes of the soul. I "see" you, and I meet you, in a place far beyond what I can sense and explain. In a place where I am, where I am you, and we are part of everything.
In that place there are no frontiers, just beauty, marvelment, togetherness. I don't know how to explain it. It seems to be a place beyond words, beyond the powers of the mind and language. A place that we cannot point to, because it's not a particular thing in space and time. It's not outside and does not reveal itself in any particular behavior.
But when we're there, everything seems one: we are part of everything and everything is part of us. And that is the only time I know of, when we're together as one.
So, when I give you my hand,
there is so much going on: there is the physical us, the situated us, holding hands, and they will never truly mingle. And then there is a much more subtle us, where you and I disappear, into a bowl of love.
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