S P A C E | Narcissus

YOU GET TO BE A CERTAIN age and suddenly things don’t seem so tough. Or upsetting. Or bittersweet. (Mellowing out? Or just accepting it. The world is not there to be handled.) All of that, you discover, has been snugly tied together with this thing that is the ego. The ego, my goodness, has gotten in the way of so much good quality intimate conversation-space, of bonding, of depth of connexion, of learning, of personal development, of discovering what is there that isn’t cluttered with your own projection of what you think is there, and more. The letting go of dead things, the title of a chapter from S P A C E | ‘A Summer Love Story,’ has included this weird, curious digging out and staring, full on, at the thing that is lying there on the cold, hard tile floor, staring at you like you ought to do something about it, its worry, its anxiety, its sudden underwhelming nature, its cavity, cavernousness, caprice, narcissism, bullying. The list goes on. But it thinks you should give a shite about it, and not let it go, because you have to do the letting go of dead things if you want to be better at everything. Not just relationships, not just life, not just your own sense of quality and awareness, but yeah. The whole lot. Everything. It begins like this. It opens doors. The whole thing is becoming a new something. And so we begin, again. ✨