"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
Like so many others, I'm incredibly triggered when it comes to "The field where I died", so much in fact that I can't bring myself to rewatch it. The idea of a completely random person who is then never mentioned (or thought of) again being revealed as Mulder's soulmate, while Scully is relegated to the role of a sort of daddy figure or spiritual guide is ridiculous. And I know the whole meta level (discontinuity in txf) explains the absurdity of it, and maybe to be a Virgil to one's Dante is no small thing -- still, if anyone matches the very definition of kindred souls (the Italian calls them "anime gemelle", twin souls, the German "Seelenverwandte", soul relatives but really more next-of-kin soul, just to indicate how other languages define this unique closeness) it has to be Scuilly and Mulder.
Oddly, when I first read the episode's title "The field where I died" so many years ago I immediately thought of Rumi's famous line in his poem "A Great Wagon" -- "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,/there is a field. I’ll meet you there." -- and my headcanon still has it so, and it fixes the whole TFWID mess; and tells me that it is truly them who meet in that field full of contradictions where everything leads to one thing in the end -- one truth, one decision, the (larger than William's paternity) "truth we both know", the truth Scully speaks of in "All things", and the one Mulder ponders upon in "The field where I died". This poem for me is so much, and is everything in relation to MSR.
When I see your face, the stones start spinning!
You appear; all studying wanders.
Fire dies down and doesn’t destroy.
In your presence I don’t want what I thought
I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.
Inside your face the ancient manuscripts
You breathe; new shapes appear,
and the music of a desire as widespread
Some of us walking alongside
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
You must ask for what you really want.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.
Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let’s buy it.
Daylight, full of small dancing particles
and the one great turning, our souls
are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.
Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?
They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?
They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.
In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul
But we have ways within each other
that will never be said by anyone.
Come to the orchard in Spring.
There is light and wine, and sweethearts
in the pomegranate flowers.
If you do not come, these do not matter.
If you do come, these do not matter.
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