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SATORI
153 parts of the whole until we realise that, being one, they don't need sticking together. I even wrote a (no doubt) turgid poem to the effect that one day love itself will die, when people realise that, like God, it is a superfluous idea. He who has even glimpsed the sunlight of Jijimuge just KNOWS himself to be one with all humanity, all things, all life, and acts accordingly; those who do not know resort to a God or the “charity” bazaar.
One morning in bed I thought that I understood all this, but I doubt if I can put it into words. My reasoning went like this, but you must make for yourselves the jump at the end of it.
Two bodies, even in passionate embrace, never mingle. The skin is never broken; each remains an undivided entity. Think this out, for it is true. "Their hearts entwine.” Nonsense, they no more interfuse emotionally, in the sense that they cease to be what they are, than two cushions laid on one another. “Their minds are one." They are not, and no man has the least idea of the inmost thoughts of his dearest friend. But they share a proportion of thoughts and emotions, react in the same way to the same events, and according to the occult tradition their "mental bodies" intermingle. For there is no life without form, and the mind must have its "body" or definite form as much as a football ground. Go higher; let our two friends each develop the intuition so that they now communicate to a large extent in silence. They are growing one on this highest human plane of consciousness, but even as they grow into the "no-mind" (mu-shin) of satori, they never cease to be what they are, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Go on, go higher still; purify the "bodies" of our friends as in ever purer relationship they grow together
