Even Despair is Better

*
It is heart-breaking to read a sad story again
just as it is painful to watch Puccini’s Madame
Butterfly, knowing what will happen next makes
me cry right from the start

Ill with allergy I need to read, I have only one sad
book, though not finished with Eckankar as yet –
but Twictchell’s Living Master promising his chela
much suffering, his insistence on

lack of desire creates a grey emptiness that is worse
than pain, I prefer crying with my little heroine than
being resigned with Eckankar students who depend
on a very strict Master

As usual the new religion is a mixed blessing, the
chela should know that some Masters suffered much
although there is a chance that doing it right will keep
followers safe – yet there is no guarantee

All depends on soul travelling without getting hooked on
soul dimensions, I prefer to deal with physical while I am
here on earth and tackle spiritual problems when I get
there after death

Right now I enjoy crying with Madame Butterfly as
she discovers Sharpless knew all along that her
beloved married another; the constricting pain
is a blessing compared to what is asked

from the disciple by a Living Master – living without
joy and elation in physical manifestation – I prefer to
love and lose to never loving anything so as to remain
detached – it is a worse fate than

The joyous indulgence in glorious self-pity we feel
when dreams desert us; even despair is better
than nothingness!
*