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Ethereal Lessons In trying to understand the philosophy of sacrificial solace, out of yearning, perhaps, for a system that will negate the sin of sorrow, I am enveloped in a mist of doubt. It drips in my mind: one fact, one verse, one bit of faith. The yearning to believe in eternity co-mingles with historic beliefs of a requirement for profound sanctity. Wanting to believe yet knowing that the mold I've accepted in the past, the mold of definition, is not one I would fit in, or would ever have fit in, or will ever fit in. So I must change my definition. In order to survive throughout eternity I must open my eyes to the sanctity of sin, and its relevance in the sequence of survival. |
| The coyotes woke me this morning, yipping in excitement, dancing in the dew. I lie there, half awake, wondering what all the neighborhood dogs feel about these wild intruders, bustling about without a full moon to guide their footsteps, never considering humanity's constraints. I wonder how I'd be as a coyote, free to roam the hillsides with boundless energy. Free to copulate at will, and tear raw flesh to satisfy my hungers. Would I hang behind the pack waiting for their leavings? Or would I lead, confident, resourceful, ecstatic in my freedoms? I don't think I'd be just a hanger-on, watching carefully at the passions of the others, considering their moves and their motives. It would be a different life altogether. I rise out of the warmth of the sheets and turn on the computer, just feet from my pillow; eager to watch the pack of humanity that socializes through their fingers. Before I've had my coffee I have watched a thousand riding the surf with only the surface of their emotions, ecstatic in the freedom of anonymity. I learn about their passions, their resourcefulness, their motives. I am a coyote watcher. |
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| Episode 10 |
| In the beginning |
| Episode 12 |
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