that “I wanted more” * 4/20/14

“I wanted more from experience”, not story lines remembered as wrappings. “I” wanted immersion beyond phenomena. Not feelings to measure the day,       “no I wanted more from experience”. At least “I” used to say it that way, as if the riddle was to say it in different words and “I” being entertained with the difference, enough to call the whole occurrence something “more”. No, no, not even the same “I”. ‘I’ want an emptier I, a bleacherless I, one who is not sedentary in expectations. “I wanted more from experience”, an ‘I’ who is consummate within experience, an ‘I’ of minimal differentiation, an ‘I’ of connective humility, a ‘want’ only if in a yearning sense,       a ‘want’ in a helpless connection to all things, not even the calling out of particulars to meet me. ‘I want’ an empty gaze streaming tears of joyless joy, a reasonless beggar of simplicity as river, no denial of anything, yet no capturing, no conquer, no keeps, not the same “I”,       not the same “want”. And if “experience”, as litany,       as revelation, as incidental . . .