Monday, March 18, 2024

Unity

I looked into the face of each person in several of the group photos and did not recognize my community. This part of the insight - community is an essential and missing component of my health and world - has been, so far, the hardest to comprehend. The number of people I've felt a true connection with in all of these years is a very small one. It's hard to imagine myself smiling blissfully in one of those photos. 

Sunday, March 17, 2024

March morning

One word I almost never say is "blessing." The noun. Like, what a blessing it is to have you in my life. 

It's one of those words that represents something beautiful, maybe even something sacred, that gets ruined along the way by overuse or corrupted by insincerity. Or maybe it's just a word someone who annoyed me said one time. 

Anyway, what a blessing these woods are to me. This morning, after a light rain, I walked in them again. I startled a great owl who flew higher up into a treetop where it could regard me at a safe distance. We stared at each other for a full minute. I put my hand on my heart. The owl turned its head as if checking to see if I intended the gesture for someone else. Who me? it seemed to say looking back at me again. Yes, you. 

Each being under the sun is equally beautiful and astonishing to each other. Even me.

On the trail, I heard the sound of water flowing over stones calling to me so I walked down to and along the brook. The moss and lichens are greening, skunk cabbage is sprouting, water bugs are skating across the surface of the pools. 

I let myself be guided by whatever it is that guides me when I shut up and get out of the way. I found myself back on deer trails following their impressions in the leaves, piles of droppings, evidence of chewed vegetation. Walking as quietly as I could with an occasional stumble or slip reminded me that I'm still a lummox with a lot to learn.

I thought of Walter Austin and his cool shoes. How much I envied him for his wisdom, his presence, his solidity. The first thing YOU have to do is heal yourself of anger, he told me with gentle firmness. He said one way to do that is to sit beside naturally moving water. 

I had it in mind to look for an opening in the earth when I set out this morning. The doorway to the other world - something I've been thinking about lately. As I walked, I looked around boulders, along the sides of hills, and at the bases of great old trees. At some point, I kicked up a stick about two feet long. One end of it caught the top of my boot along the bridge of my foot while the other stuck into the ground preventing me for a moment from swinging my left foot forward and holding me in place. I looked down directly into the hole I'd been searching for.

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Eluxoroma

I came out of the woods with five affirmations last weekend. Today, I had a chance to practice them during less than ideal conditions. First, I forgot my phone and didn't realize it until I was too far away to turn around for it. I said a few not-very-nice-things to myself and then countered immediately with the affirmations. The dissonance made me laugh. What do I need a phone for anyway? 

We completed the tenth rolfing session today. My neck wasn't right when I went in but it was better when I came out. I fell asleep several times on the table. It was peaceful. Integration, she said. That's how it's supposed to be. Giant steps, she told me. There's still some opportunity there, but we've taken giant steps. 

I took myself to lunch after in a town where I used to work. Ordered the sandwich I used to eat pretty frequently back then. It was good, but not as good as I remember. Paid the check and drove back to Worcester where I had some errands to run. Bank first: check. UPS store: there's a problem. The machine won't accept my ATM card as payment. I try it as a credit card. I try it as a debit card. I try it each way three times. I'l use my credit card. No, I won't because apparently I left it at the restaurant 45 minutes South of here. 

I drag myself out of the store by the neck, bash my head against the trunk of my car a couple of times and get in. The words I'm using internally are not at all complimentary at this point, but good for you for tuning into them. I remember my affirmations. I say them aloud. The first run through sounds like I'm a prosecutor reading a list of charges to some monster in a court of law. The second is a little closer to neutral, but certainly not kind. By the fifth repetition, I was feeling pretty calm. What the hell? It's a nice day for a drive. 

The card was where I left it. The waitress handed it back to me with a smile. When I got home, my phone was there on the counter plugged into the charger. There were no missed calls. There were no missed texts. By the end of the day, I'd gotten done most of the things on my list anyway. The one or two items I didn't get to can wait. 



Thursday, March 14, 2024

This again

I was busy with work for most of the ten hour shift while noticing the sun was out and thinking that I'd like to be outside underneath it. When the end of the shift arrived, that strange tiredness had come upon me. It's something like a mild novocaine curtain coming down inside my head. Heavy weights suspended from my wrists pulling my shoulders down. Find somewhere to get flat. Inertia. A strange short sleep takes me. 

One man spoke of the two wolves within while he patiently waited to know his fate fully understanding that to take a stand for truth is to offer oneself up for murder. Another spoke of Zen and maintenance in the wake of his woman leaving and telling him she was keeping his dog. I already meditated, he said. I'm calm. I understood them both differently than I would have a year ago. I can see the page is turning. 

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Madman beside the water

In the dream, which is becoming increasingly distant, I was walking quietly along a ridge line above a swollen creek in the valley below. My walk was more like a stalk as I began leaning forward until my hands came into contact with the ground  and I ran along on four legs. A game trail which I'd not been able to see until then became clear to me and I sensed deer sign - tracks, droppings, scent.  A wildness seemed to be growing in me. I startled myself by speaking aloud in some kind of brogue. "We're not at all afraid of crazy. Never were and never will be." I said it over and over again as I made my way down the steep embankment to the laughing brook and squatted there on a rock. Something told me to brush myself off and let the flowing water carry away what had been clinging to me.