Knock on the sky and listen to the sound. ~Zen Saying
Sometimes I forget to protect myself. Most times, really. Well, lets be honest--I always forget. In fact, I cannot say that I even try to remember, I merely tell myself that I am going to, and then proceed straightaway to ignore my own advice.
Why then, given my own stubborn lack of prudence, do I continue to be surprised by unkindness?
Is there something to be gathered up, treasured to oneself in the wounds so carelessly inflicted by others? Does unkindness without recognition remain undone, something that never happened?
This is the heart of carelessness: To inflict pain or insult without acknowledgment or remorse.
What if people had no target, no victim readily available? They would, of course, curse God.
And yet, as the Kabbalists say, when you curse another human being, you curse God as well, for the object of the curse is His image. We are that which of He is visible.
God does not react. He cannot be touched. Therefore the individual is a far more satisfying objective.
Why does a man, because of kindness, feel stupid? Why does it seem a reasonable option to learn for ourselves the carelessness by which harm was in the first place inflicted?
Do you remember me, the one you love, the man you made of words and kisses?
Strange world, ours. World of questions and riddles, and the answers all of mist and enigma.