Crasses et Voluptés

I have suffered all my life knowing that it is a valuable aspect of being human. I did not choose to become a human being as far as I know, and when I came out of the womb, the doctor held me upside down and slapped me on my ass because I had not yet turned from an aquatic creature into an air breathing creature. When he smacked me it was as if he said, “Welcome to the world, Richard—this is what you can expect from it.” Then they cleaned out my airways, cut my umbilical cord and I remember them putting some ridiculous hat on me and tying it under my chin and I hated it.

My mother had been put to sleep with an anesthetic, and although it wasn’t supposed to go through the umbilicus, I’m sure that I had come out woozy—already stoned a bit. The next day after my mother woke up, they took me to her and I remember looking at her and wondering what the hell had happened—where was I, and what kind of trouble did I get myself into? Who are these people and who is this woman? After a brief period of staring at her with my old soul eyes I realized I was expected to be a baby, I softened in her arms and played the role of a baby even though I was fully conscious. I played the part of a young child and eventually I lost myself in my role as a teenager and young adult, but I never lost touch with the fact that I suffered. This kind of conscious suffering earned something.

Some sort of unseen substance was generated by this kind of conscious suffering. Even in my madness during manic attacks I never hurt anyone. I had gone crazy over rock music, and this was to be my life so I wouldn’t have to grow up—I was already mature inwardly. I was a highly precocious and intelligent child who learned to walk and talk and interact with the adults even though I could see that there were problems with them that I could not solve. I suffered for the world, as much as my measure would permit.

I am no Dalai Lama or saint—it’s as much as I can do to be generous and help others, but this has caused me great suffering as well because no one wants to wake up. Everyone is in a comfortable sleep, dreaming away in their imagination and creating personalities with which they walk around in an arrogant unconsciousness.

All my life I have tried to teach others what I recognize now as the famous “It,” and all my life I have failed to teach even one person, or to transmit to even one person who does not have it, that elusive quality of “It.” Whereas, I had “It” to the point of “agony”—a word that means trial from the ancient Greek. I see this life as a trial. Life on the earth can be Heaven or Purgatory or Hell, but life in the world is nothing but Hell or Purgatory—there is no Heaven in it. It is a fleeting thing which lasts both seemingly forever, and also wilts like a flower, having its short season in the sun....