Chaos and cosmos are dance partners. In the West, we refer to the law of opposites. In the East, the Sanskrit word samsara, is employed. The role of chaos is to trigger germination, an irruptive movement involving the utter destruction of an innocent casing.
Love is for all or love is for nothing.
Great art draws us out of ourselves, renders personality irrelevant, reminds us that we are part of a much vaster unfolding than the merely me. Consider the work of Mark Rothko, most notably from the fifties and sixties. He didn’t anoint or prettify things. And unlike many others in his paint-splashing cohort, he was radically uninterested in himself.
Following his most memorable expedition, author/pyschonaut/anglophonic gentleman Aldous Huxley wrote to a friend to express his overwhelming realization that love is the primary and fundamental cosmic fact.
Everything happens spontaneously and yet a belief persists that we are doing it. Does the heart beat or the liver function or the sun burn itself into oblivion because of something we do?
Men's Work 