The World Nemesis

One has to understand fully the basis of one’s relation to the world to transcend its difficulty, for the world’s like a disagreeable relative who stinks, overeats, oversleeps, and overstays its welcome. When it smiles or brings flowers, as it sometimes will, time to check that one’s wallet’s still in place or one’s daughters are safely locked at home.  Apples in the orchard are gifts, they are poems, and they are traps. An apple brings a smile and a sense that the world is caring for one. But thus is the subtle seduction of it, the unholy lure of hope and trust. The apple, the morning dew, the warm orange sun of late evening–each blesses with a right hand what it corrupts with its left.

There’s an alchemical secret at play. It is possible to transform corruption into blessing: to see corruption through blessed eyes brings corruption’s blessing through like polished silver. The Philosopher’s Stone is actually an enlightened viewpoint — it converts all to gold, and not the gold that passes, but the gold that ever stays.

The Philosopher’s eyes see in the apple a mirror of perfection, the hint of divine purpose through earthly marvels. The scent of the rose intoxicates the true Philosopher with bemused wonder over his Beloved, and he drifts into another world within the world, regaining renewal and wholeness.  He comes back from that place with eyes glimmering, with a smile, and every word dripping with the honey of love.  Here, but still there.  There, and yet here as well.  Without being able to stand in both worlds, one is defenseless before the blessing and the curse that come wielding swords with every worldly gift like thieves pouring out of a Trojan horse.