(This
is Part II of 2. Part I was posted yesterday.)
…But
whether our perspective is exoteric or esoteric, it is still a reflection of
one and the same world above us, or below us, and thus, even though our
creativity realizes itself in a variety of forms, there are still only two
parallel lives in time, related to the horizontal axis of time proper, by their
vertical correlation. A differently graphed multiplicity of lives can only be
achieved by a multiplicity of the worlds themselves, from which we are
escaping. And then, as our creativity starts reflecting the new world, as
opposed to the old one, the meaning of ‘you only live twice’ changes dramatically, not
just with reference to the difference of the worlds, but with reference to the
life of our dream. As it happens, our dream is acquiring a different
life and that gets both incredibly scary and incredibly exciting. It is
exceedingly scary to coexist in our vertical lives, where the source of our
happy reflection has suddenly changed, but the real excitement comes when we
give up on the prospect of coexistence, transposing our whole life from the
reality to the reflection.
To
make myself better understood, I can offer the difference of what I have been
describing (which, as the reader must have guessed, is a reference to my own
life) from the normal life of a settler in the new world, who has uprooted
himself from his old world. In this case, the same-level life in the new world
becomes a potent substitute for the reflection, the settler’s old-world dream,
and turns him into the regular member of the hoi polloi. I repeat: the reflection
is no more, not exactly a Frau ohne Schatten, but, come to think of
it, a lot of food for thought, which I advise the reader to ruminate on, before
my answer to the riddle appears at the very end of this entry, quickly coming
to its end anyway.
To
be totally honest, the uniqueness of my excitement may not be sufficient value
for the terribly high cost of it. Somewhere, previously, I compared myself to a
very strange fish, which instead of going down to the bottom of its lake or
leaping up into the air, to get back to its natural habitat, when the
exploration is done, leaps over the lake’s bank on a journey of no return. The
only reason, perhaps, that I am still alive is that I have now managed to
separate myself thoroughly from the reality of my ‘new world,’ reuniting myself
in a vivid reflection with my old world, and, as a result, turning all of
myself into a 100% reflection: a “Schatte ohne Mann”…
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