Conversations For Transformation: Essays Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

Conversations For Transformation

Essays By Laurence Platt

Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

And More


Flash

San Francisco, California, USA

March 7, 2009



This essay, Flash, is the third in the septology Passion:

Nobody says it better.

<quote>

Transformation is the space  in which the event  "transformation" occurs.

<unquote>

It's a brilliant quote. It's vintage  Erhard. Transformation is an experience. It's everything. It's nothing. It's everythingnothing. It has no components. It has no texture. It doesn't feel, smell, sound, touch, or taste like anything. You can't get it with ESP  either.

And yet you could say it does have a sensation. I assert the sensation of transformation  is often mis-associated with pleasure. So it's almost on the money to call it erotic  ... but that's not quite it, simply because the connotations of erotic  bring in associations and meanings which aren't useful here.

I assert the sensation of transformation is ecstasy. In my dictionary, ecstasy is eroticism without any sexual innuendo. Ecstasy and eroticism may indeed occur at the same time. And they don't have to.

The sex manuals are written in order to try to get to ecstasy  from erotica. But they'll all have to be rewritten because they can't account for people already coming from  ecstasy.

Nights in ecstasy last forever. They also always end too soon. Too soon it's time to leave.

"Last touch" I whisper, reaching over to caress the dimple line on her cheek. She closes her eyes tilting her head back slightly, sighing, her lips parting.

The dryness of my fingertips on the soft blonde peach fuzz of her face crackle with a kind of static sensory electricity. I gradually back away, my fingers stretching out until they can't touch her anymore, eventually breaking contact. I turn and walk away toward the door.

"Hey you!" she calls out after me. I stop and turn around.

"Last flash" she says smiling, a mischievous happy smile, slowly reaching up to grab the lapel of her loosely tied white terry towel robe, suddenly pulling it open.

The sweetness. The playfulness. The surprise. The ... "Oh Wow!"  ... The gift ...

I stand - in awe.

Then, for the second time, I turn and walk away.



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