Thinking about the body and metaphor. (This is what intellectuals do when we're horny.)
I had a boyfriend years ago, very neurotic, very sexy. In that satyr/compact Zeus style I like. (Cf. my friend J). Although he was very uncomfortable in the world and usually uncomfortable in his own skin, when there were no clothes on his skin, he calmed down a lot. He liked being naked at home and I liked perusing him. Wrote a poem --which, thankfully, I cannot find-- about his body as a planet, a whole geography.
I think of the soul in similar terms. According to Jung, soul is essentially image.
For my own these days, I imagine my soul as a kind of planet, with a variety of ecologies and terrains, seasons, etc.
There are bright and sunny places, warm and lush, where I sometimes go for brief vacations. Often it's like a fall day in British Columbia, wooded and grey and damp. And there is a place, like a large dead calm piece of southern ocean, without wind, or even much air. Or company. Silent, unmoving. Doldrums.
No comments:
Post a Comment