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01/30/2004: "Pneuma"

Love is the wind. It blows soft and gentle, hot and harsh, it rips through the winter night and makes it unbearably bitter, just as it stirs the summer afternoon it unbearably sweet. It has four temperaments, four humours, four directions, four tastes. We turn our sails to its breath, imagining that we can harness its power and go where we please, by its service; then the tempest comes and we go off course, dashed on the rocks of disaster, because we are its slave, not its master. Yet even that disastrous fate we prefer to the fate of being set adrift in the doldroms, when the wind withdraws and we stagnate, hopeless, all at sea. Love is the wind.