a letter to my sister

Sent this to my sister today:

We, you and I, are the children of Vishnu.

In Hinduism, there are three baseline deities or suggestions: Brahma, the creator; Vishnu, the preserver; and Kali, the destroyer.

Preservers are the ones who, at least initially, lead "white bread" lives. Playing by the rules, saving against the day when all might be lost. There comes a time when the rules are not enough and white bread seems hopelessly bland and in need of the Italian waiter's grinding of pepper over the food.

The children of Vishnu -- I like the ring of it, so I write it. Preserve, protect and, in the end, immure. To have been more daring -- wowsers!

My shrink of six or eight years, Jack, once told me he was wary around social workers because they were frequently too rule-bound. White bread.

If you put some study into it, there is no dividing line separating Brahma, Vishnu and Kali. The one floats into the other and then back. The children of Vishnu are the children of Brahma and the children of Kali. White bread is quite daring right up until the moment when it is not. The rule book is imperative ... except that it is not. White bread creates. White bread destroys. White bread preserves.

The children of Vishnu. A life of preservation and protection. And then curiosity gets the best of us: What is it, precisely, that we are protecting against? To know becomes more interesting than to protect against the unknown.

White bread. Bland. Un-spiced. I coulda had a V-8.

Still, if you or I were to study it and see the melding of things, how much time might have been wasted -- taken away from more important things.

Like Tiddly-Winks.