The word isomorphism comes from mathematics.
It's used to describe two seemingly different objects that are actually identical when viewed through the right lens.
Isomorphism is the lens.

It's a way of stripping away superficiality to reveal the underlying nature of things.
(You and I are isomorphic. We are the same.)
It doesn't ignore the superficial; it acknowledges and respects our differences, treats them with complete care.

It is said we don't truly understand a thing until we understand its relationship to other things.
The relationships help us more deeply understand the constituent parts, and the parts help us understand the whole.
Is there some deep underlying structure that manifests all things? A question for seekers--
spiritual seekers looking for the face of eternity, scientific seekers looking for the grand unified theory.
Questions and answers are couched in language and all language is metaphor.
We are poetry in motion.

The genius of it

My head is on a pillow against the left arm of the couch
My calves are on a blanket folded over the right
My feet are clear of the couch's width by half a foot or more
I circle my ankles and stretch out my toes
My phone reminds me it's 7pm
It reminds me every hour to pause and look around
I look around and take in the shapes and colors of things
and remind myself that I'm safe
I'm not on the Savannah with lions
I'm in no danger
Without those reminders, my brain will convince me I'm in peril
Of what, who knows
That's the genius of it


There is a mathematical curve called a parabola
A parabola is always opening and always closing
It expands its breadth without bound but at an ever slower pace
The walls that enclose it get steeper and steeper, yet farther and farther apart
Until a moment, just out of reach,
when its walls are infinitely steep and infinitely far apart
It is at this event horizon that it meets its shadow
a twin that has been doing the same dance in a mirror on the other side of infinity
They meet in an imperceptible flash
become one another
and continue backward in time
to their common origin


It is all just love, this whole thing
Cliche, I know
Are you disappointed in me? for being so cliche?
That is because you love me
Stumbling through love
That is all we do


History is a record of misapprehensions
When we're right, we're wrong
To step out of the right-wrong game
is to be unmoored
to drift
in faith