Pomegranates and Cocaine.

Oxymorons live everywhere. This is the Tantra of life.

I walked past a house that is a well known crackden, in my hometown, today.

Out the front of the house, a beautiful Pomegranate Tree, full of ripe fruits.

Unpicked.

Probably not even noticed.

“What a waste”, I thought.

But I wouldn’t dare pick the fruits, for the police circle that house regularly, trying to catch the leaseholders out, active in a deal.

It got me thinking, though.

How the sacred and the profane, live side by side, everywhere we look.

How our reality is one giant oxymoron.

The beauty of the rose, surrounded by a garden of weeds.

The non for profit company that donates to a charity, every time a plastic water bottle is bought from a petrol station.

Purity, barely exists.

And this is Tantra.

Tantra speaks of finding the beauty and the sacred, in the profane. That it exists everywhere, in the eyes of God.

And that is not to justify poor behaviour or to just throw it all out to the wind.

Pomegranates are best enjoyed when they are eaten and appreciated, not left to fruit and shrivel and die, untouched by the gaze of presence and the eye that can see its beauty.