Everything is the blanket. Outside the blanket is just more blankets.
Alternatively, under the blanket is where the romantic tension happens. The soft idle brushes of body upon body. Any excuse to create closeness, contact and the comfort of something like intimacy. It’s a nice game that one.
And technically, right now, I’m what’s under the blanket. Me and my nakedness.
It’s pretty sexy under the blanket.
But back to decency.
We watched I Heart Huckabees last night (I’ve seen it about a million times now, often with people I crush on a little, its one of those sort of films, I guess). It’s lovely, and in it Dustin Hoffman uses a blanket to explain that we are all the same.
The blanket is everything. There is nothing outside the blanket. One bit of the blanket is me, one is you, one is my laptop, one is Paris, one is the questioneer, one is an orgasm, one is a hamburger.
Except they are all part of the blank, so we are all fundamentally the same, even as we are different.
It’s a lovely motif, and the theme of existence is explored (in a way) throughout the film.
But let’s get to this question.
If the blanket is everything, what is underneath.
Well, during the explanation, it’s Dustin Hoffman’s hands, pinching and lifting the blanket it certain places, indicating where the orgasm is, or the hamburger.
So maybe there’s something underneath; picking out the difference between the elements that make up the universe that we conventionally see as separate.
I remember a beautiful afternoon listening to Alan Watts rant about Brahman. I don’t know how close it is to actual Hindi doctrine, but he described how everything everywhere was an expression of Brahman. Me, you, Paris, orgasms. Brahman is the universe. But sometimes Brahma wants to not know everything. It gets boring being omniscient everythingness.
So Brahman divides himself into these units, and allows each of them to explore him, with a veil of unknowledge so that everything seems surprising.
So I am Brahman, with one particular viewpoint on all of creation (that is also a part of me).
Marnie stole the album title from Alan Watts, and it makes more sense once you say it with his rolling, langorous tone.
And he is either talking about the blanket or Brahman.
Now, I don’t believe in Brahma. But I love the notion.
I don’t think we can ever see what’s under the blanket. And there may be nothing there. But fundamentally, I think that it doesn’t matter.
Pick a story you like, and tell it when people ask you. Otherwise just keep quiet and carry on.
The blanket is beautiful enough if you just keep exploring it.
And in a very real way you are just exploring yourself.
Illustration by Maria.