In arousal, whatever you have committed to—life or withdrawal, creation or anger—will rise to the surface, undeniable and whole. You will not be half-hearted; you will be either devastating or brilliant.
Most traditions, fearing this force, choose to suppress it, not seeing that what is denied still acts, only now from the shadows. Arousal, that wild life force, flows along the channels already carved by the heart’s past inclinations. Yet the heart holds all potentials.
It does not banish the darker ones—it draws them in, marrying them to their opposites,weaving balance. What we call evil is simply what has not yet been loved into wholeness.
The true danger lies not in the wildness within, but in refusing to hold it, forcing it into the world unclaimed. The erotic artist makes a different choice.
They take the battle inward, not casting it out into the world, but wrestling it in the heart’s own chambers. They become the meeting place, the mediator, holding rage, passion, destruction within love’s grasp—not to tame, but to transmute.
This is the work of Eros: to repair the ancient split, to birth a new soul from the marriage of what we have wrongly divided into good and evil.
This is the home of the new garden where we allow ourselves to fall into nature herself, into the intelligence of the Earth and root in, in order to rise.