But that is a betrayal of my claim to honor the dignity of others.
This is the unity that is pointed to in an act as exhibition--I show myself; that is sounded in an act as expression--I announce myself; and that is told in an act as connection--I evoke myself.
That is myth's renewal--it is not mere recitation--and its renewing power.
Here and there in the maelstrom, a point of organization appears--temporarily--and that is where I find the product and the producer.
I do not say that it is done but, rather, that I am doing it.
So I do what I must do--or better, what it is said that I must do--and go home still disconnected.
So when I say that I am a humanist, I am making a claim.
I have powers that I enjoy and limitations that I admit (unwillingly, to be sure, except when I need an alibi).
The doing is a doorway to my being; I learn over and over again that I am alive, that I have life not simply as a fact of biology but as a fact of experience.
Thus, a reenactment becomes (always a becoming) a way that I share with another and another shares with me.
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