(audio available for paid subscribers)
This hour I tell things in confidence.
I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.
Where I often seem to err is in making the eyes-closed, fear-based, halfborn, herdbound ego-clad segregated state of human childhood seem like a bad thing, as if asleep is wrong and awake is right. The reality is that the human remix we call the segregated child is really the most wondrous and miraculous thing in all of known creation, and that’s really saying something because there’s a lot of pretty awesome shit around here.
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Whitman’s Song of Myself here, with audio.
(Here, the author engages in uninspired wordplay to which I shall not give voice.)
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
