A scorpion was wandering along the bank of the river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river.
The fox said, "No. If I do that, you'll sting me and I'll drown."
The scorpion assured him, "If I did that, we'd both drown."
So the fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him.
As the poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, "Why did you do that? Now you'll drown too."
"I couldn't help it," said the scorpion. "It's my nature."
The reason I added this famous parable as a prologue is that I feel it's a good analogy between my heart and mind. With my heart being the scorpion. Without getting drawn in by the self-indulgent vortex of self-analysis it boils down to this basic issue: I resent my heart for fulfilling it's primary function. And it's not like it's the first time. But just because I have been stung before does not mean I will disallow a new experience. To refuse experience is to refuse life and at the point that you are refusing life you might as well just throw yourself in the river to spite yourself.
Now when I say 'heart' I am talking about a psycho-physical function. I am fully aware that romance as we know it today was a man-made construct created by the troubadors blah blah blah.
I am stung and drowning. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
The fox said, "No. If I do that, you'll sting me and I'll drown."
The scorpion assured him, "If I did that, we'd both drown."
So the fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him.
As the poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, "Why did you do that? Now you'll drown too."
"I couldn't help it," said the scorpion. "It's my nature."
The reason I added this famous parable as a prologue is that I feel it's a good analogy between my heart and mind. With my heart being the scorpion. Without getting drawn in by the self-indulgent vortex of self-analysis it boils down to this basic issue: I resent my heart for fulfilling it's primary function. And it's not like it's the first time. But just because I have been stung before does not mean I will disallow a new experience. To refuse experience is to refuse life and at the point that you are refusing life you might as well just throw yourself in the river to spite yourself.
Now when I say 'heart' I am talking about a psycho-physical function. I am fully aware that romance as we know it today was a man-made construct created by the troubadors blah blah blah.
I am stung and drowning. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.