The scientist will mix this with that, and this happens, then a little heat and everything changes to that, then the atom is split, the cancer is healed, the baby is born. She mixes this herb with that, boils and stirs, respectfully, while her eyes close and a prayer is recited. He mixes this with that, looks to the heavens, and respects it’s Aliveness with a reverent chant.
It’s all the casting of spells.
Writing is as in the moment as it gets for me.
People like W___ and F___, whose stories just roll off the tongue, seems like they’ve always been in the moment. For those like me, who have almost drowned in numbness, when it comes time to tell a story, of course we don’t know where to start.
__________
07AUG2008
Woke from long, on-going dream where I was touring a high school with Mom, except she wasn’t Mom, she was this better version, who had chosen me or over R___.
Meanwhile, throughout the dream I knew it wasn’t real, that me and her were touring what my life would’ve been like if she had been better.
Even though in the dream my body was a teenager’s, the mind was of the present. The high school was beautiful with a clock tower/tree. The students were more of the same as far as all the friends I’ve made or met over the years, including Marc___.
What made it special was the attitude of the dream, my attitude in the dream: it was raw: serious, quiet, masculine.
No one in that school would’ve messed with me. At the end of the dream, the kids are graduating, and sing a song honoring all those who for reasons out of their control, could not be there for those four years of high school.
And I am in this car in the parking lot, about to drive away, except it suddenly goes into reverse and speeds backwards dangerously, and I am quickly turning the key, and changing the gear shift, and giving it gas to get the car going forward. And as the car is rushing backward I awake for the fourth and final time from the dream.
Believing strongly the opposite of those underlying assumptions, caused the great emotion of June 1st.
I keep wanting to create that Strong Heart again, those strong, unmistakable emotions.
It’s all about those underlying assumptions, and knowing their opposite to the point of allowing those emotions.
Michelangelo’s sculpture of David explains it best. It is so beautiful, not because of its esthetics. But what the body speaks of. That there is more there than physical image, and it is the More that I forgot.
What I wanted when I was a child -- survival -- I got thru numbness, which turned out a nie_ve choice, because numbness is Aggressive -- disrespectful to Life.
When wanting the same as an adult I knew better -- so I tried to wash away the underlying assumptions fueling the erroneous emotions.
Washed them away with Truth asserted in my own beating. A Truth that requires a deep respect for Life.
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