Waking to the Bridegroom

I had some good dreams this morning... nothing revelatory, just more wish-fulfilment dreams that gave my heart a lift for a little while. One of those dreams where... even the smallest happenings are rapturous, where touching someone's hand is like exploring a full landscape of elation. But I am always hiding. Always waiting for some permission that never comes. Always holding my breath, and inching forward only to be tossed aside by the shock of discovery. Sad indeed. 

This week I found out that I have qualified for another bursary of some significance, which I am happy for. I have used a (small) portion to get some books from the list of various recommendations I keep by my desk for such an occasion. One of these is Richard Hess' "Song of Songs" commentary, which I look forward to. In much the same way as my dream life, I find the book's reputation for raciness to be hilariously disappointing. However, when we put our human needs aside I also find the book potentially fascinating for its poetry, focus on romantic love, and the symbology regarding the spiritual Bride and Bridegroom. The entwining of romantic love, erotics, and spiritual depth has always been something of a part of my own core, which at times I've attempted to move away from assuming this was wrong, but I don't believe so anymore. It's a... danger, yes, which I would love to expand upon someday, but, also one of those most magnificent windows to the divine, in my opinion. Communion itself, free from constraint, full of longing, and surrender... That's why I love Leonard Cohen so much, too. The High Priest of Pathos. 

What will my life and work say of me, in the end? I don't know. I don't really... care, anymore. Unless it's useful, what is not can fall away. I am just another sparkle on the waves of a midnight sea.