Starry climes

I suppose I could construct a book with a full stop at the end, with this topic.

But as usual I’ll remain a pastiche, unacademic, personal, and inconclusive.

I wrote a while back, “Elohim is in love with the goddess.” Perhaps I was thinking of an unhierarchical circularity of the shiva/shakti paradigm. It was of course prophetic, in that I fell in love with a goddess. A physical, lusting love.

So I wondered, since I write self reflectively, how does that entail another? And I came back to philosophy, my statement above, “Elohim is in love with the goddess”, because, philosophically it’s quite an interesting statement when you include feminism, anarchy and queer theory.

For, thought! Everyone these days have Descartes old nightmare: how can my thought, which only sees physical space, know the thought of another?

So I was elohim, she was the goddess. Perhaps to her, she was elohim, I a goddess.

Aristotle grants another boon. He says motion is not a substance but exists, like number. While number one could say is a human construct, motion is not. Enter physics idea of space time having a kind of platonic, elohim, formlike existence.

Yet form is in no way superior to matter. As feminism has explored embodiment, this holds true.

Aah! Equality! Perhaps now I’ve said that word I’m a dinosaur!

The tendency of spiritualism then has been to “wed” the two in a heteronormative way. Yet queer theory has shown gender to be a construct on top of a body. (Sound familiar to the above?)

Onward to god, then. God/dess, hence, a unity of opposites, need not rely on gender. Rather, shapeshifts into different forms. And here, I’m not just talking about me again. God/dess shifts into a woman, a bird, a cat, plant or chair.

A love which unites, uncouples and reforms.

For im taking a selfie right now, and I’m going to say, I’m sitting here thinking (as usual) about love.

Love unites the goddess, form, matter, elohim, I, her, body spirit. Becoming a shapehifting totality.

It fuses them all, encompasses them and GROWS.

It’s like space love, she holds me in her loving hand..

Cal Kalve