I have a friend…

….We’re not friendly anymore. But I still love her. I think.

Can I call it love if I want nothing more to do with her? If we are totally estranged because I want nothing more to do with her? If I chose to walk out of her life once and for all?

Of course I do look back from time to time…. How could I not?

She was such a huge part of my life! The laughs we shared over the years… genuine, rolling on the floor, gut wrenching, tear producing laughter! I swear I pulled more than one muscle in my life just laughing with her!

And then there were the tears – sobbing, hopeless, helpless tears. Situations we couldn’t control, and we couldn’t fix, and we couldn’t escape… She was always better at grieving anyway.

And there was everything in between. The raw honesty and the outright lies. The deep loyalty followed by the inconceivable betrayal. The white rage and the soothing azure of serenity. Moments of pure perfection. Years of separation. Collaboration. And isolation…

Trust me when I say I didn’t walk away without thinking about it. I spent years thinking about it. Finally planning it. After more than three decades, I’d finally had enough. I wanted to purge the toxin from my system. I needed to. And I needed to do it in a manner I wouldn’t regret…

Oh, I fantasized about it all the time in those last couple of years together. Building my case, justifying my decision, planning my good-byes. The things I wanted to say, the letters I would write… She needed to, or maybe deserved to know why. Right? But, in the end, I said nothing at all of consequence. The “issues” were all mine. She had told me to learn to live with them or walk away; I chose to walk away. I hugged her, I told her I loved her, and I left. End of story…

And I have not regretted it since…

She was one of those people that everybody loves. She was charming, sincere, warm and generous. But she was so much more than that. She never, for example, truly did anything for free. She got her hooks in, then called up favors when in need. But it always seemed like you wanted to help her! And if there was some nagging doubt, deep in your soul, it was nothing more than self-doubt I am sure. Because people honestly believed they loved her! And very likely did. Some went so far as to adore her, idolize her, revere her…. They freely offered up their lives while she manipulated them…

I know this because I helped her…

It’s almost like she wanted to do the “right” thing, and sometimes even knew what that was. She met many teachers along her path who seemed to recognize her soul and wanted to help guide her, no strings attached. And often she would let them try. But at the end of every such path was a choice, a test, and wise, well-taught or not, she could never commit to “right”. It eluded her, and she avoided it. And both were happier that way…

She spent most of her adulthood seeking “evil”. She wanted to know if it was real. Not horror scenes, or blood and gore, but “Evil” in its truest form. It fascinated her. Compelled her. Defined and punctuated every moment. I know that feeling; I sought Truth with the same fervor. No wonder we were drawn together…

Until, at last, her mantra, repeated endlessly, was this: “we’re either here to serve Others, or we’re here to serve our Selves”. There could be no in-between. Life had shown her, there simply wasn’t anything else. At least nothing else that mattered. She believed she was here serving others; but the truth was, she was only here serving her Self…

I feared I was only serving my Self, but I killed mySelf trying to serve Others…

Some might say we both found what we sought.

Others might question if the friend is really someone else…?

From Whence IT Came…

Odd title having nothing whatsoever to do with what I planned on writing, but that’s what came to me, so I choose to see it through. Maybe it will lead me somewhere unexpected…

IT…. There it is again. Always. Stuck right in the middle of things, as if it belongs. So tiny and nondescript, and yet so crucial to making any sense…

IT…

I’ve been having revelations. Epiphanies, really. Those moments of indescribable joy when everything suddenly makes sense! Those moments that occur so rarely that you want to scream about them from every rooftop, but when you try, the magic is lost. Personal Truths, a lifetime spent learning, falling on deaf ears and absolute silence. And you know…. Nobody else seems to get it!

IT…

Maybe it’s not for them to know. Or maybe it’s just not time yet….

Maybe they will get there on their own someday. Or maybe no one else ever will…

After All, who am I to question IT?

As I dig deeper into Truth (my truth, at least), the pieces I understand get smaller and smaller. Like a bubble contracting around Me. Not constricting so much as refining. Purifying. Becoming tiny. But carrying significantly more weight than before…

I was alone for so long. Until I became more than one. Until I became All – the whole world living as One. I felt it. I knew it. I was it. Me, a tiny drop of rain absorbed into a vast and endless sea. Of me’s…. And then I lost it!

Evaporated into a cloud that rained upon the earth, or cast out of a wave and hurled recklessly upon the beach…. And then I was alone again, only this time I was aware of all those like me, around me, so very much alike while living separately. And there were only moments…. Flashes…. Lightning striking when I remembered IT.

IT…

Time passes, illusion or not. We grow old, frail…. Maybe wiser as we age. We learn to listen more than we speak, to give more than we take. We learn to wait. If strength and vigor are wasted on the young who know not how to use their power, so, too, is patience wasted on the elders who lack the will to wield it.

IT…

Tiny pieces, dense and heavy with promise… careening through my mind… smashing through what remains of my resistance. Leaving my heart light at last. Even if no one else understands. Ever. I, at least, feel complete…

By George, I think I’ve got IT!

I Listened… No more.

I took my own advice for once. I shut up. I stopped whining about my own life and opened myself up. I listened. Really listened. Wondering what to expect next from this seemingly endless and pointless existence…

I heard waves lapping at shorelines, and creatures moving in the seas…

I heard birds singing loudly, as breezes rustled through the trees.

I heard all sorts of animals creeping through the grasses, and insects buzzing around my head.

And the trees…. The trees reaching deeper with their roots as if trying to hang on.

All life around me, in exaggerated style, doing what they do as if they wouldn’t in a while.

I felt an edge, an urgency to everything they did. Moving so deliberately…

and then.

As one, almost, a collective sigh.

A deep breath, followed by a moment of silence.

***

And the silence remained. Perfect. Unbroken.

Connections shattered without sound.

Tears slid silently down my cheeks,

and then…

And then “we” were no more.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up…”

“Shut up!!! I’ve had enough!! And I don’t give a flying *#@&!”…

“What you believe, what you want, whatever frickin’ thing you think you NEED…?!”

“DOES. NOT. MATTER. TO. ME!”

Are we clear now?

Good! Then shut up and listen for once. Because you might not get another chance.

***

I’m sorry, everyone. That outburst was not personally directed at any of you! But it was meant for all of us to hear. And yes, I am well aware my hypocrisy is showing. In neon flashing strobe lights, no less!

But I can’t take much more of this noise! This constant shouting. The screaming! The outrage and pain and suffering! The endless griping and tantrums, the acting out to get noticed…. Everyone trying to be “heard,” all at once, tripping over one another, stampeding over each other. And there is no one listening! Because nobody cares anymore!

And even if they did care, they couldn’t do a damn thing to help you! Why? Because any real “help” requires some basic communication, and communication is a two way street. You have to listen at least as much as you speak! And we, as a society, have long since given up any pretense of listening! Because what we have to say is so much more important…

And we all know we’re running out of time.

The 2020 lockdowns were hard on a lot of people. I know that. And I know how lucky I was that I wasn’t one of them. I had been begging for a “break” for so long…. “Just a couple months out of the rat race, without giving up my pay…”. And that’s exactly what I got!

My employer paid me full wages to stay home for ten weeks. And do absolutely nothing work related! My daughter works in a field that allowed her to work from home. I home-schooled the kids while she worked. It was precious bonding family time…

Our community already had a well-established infrastructure for both home delivery and curbside pick-up, and whatever businesses hadn’t already hopped on that bandwagon soon did. Groceries, hardware, gardening supplies, restaurants… whatever you wanted could be either delivered to your home or brought out to you in your car. If you had a credit card and internet, there was little (aside from maybe toilet paper and hand sanitizer) that you couldn’t get. It might take a day or two to get it done, but with just a little planning, pretty much anything could be accomplished. It was, in many ways, the lazy person’s paradise.

It was the isolation that eventually wreaked havoc in my soul. I loved the short term disconnect, the chance to step away from the constant noise. I dreaded going back out in the world again. Being an empath meant never truly silencing the voices, but knowing I could not go out into the midst of it helped mute the noise a bit. I built a little bubble around my family and I, and let my people-ing skills fade away… Days rolled into weeks that tumbled into months, but for me it was an endless, timeless now. And I knew peace…

So when called to leave my safe cocoon, I walked out shakily, full of social anxiety. I was shocked to discover how much I’d actually lost during the shutdown. Things like empathy, sympathy, compassion… and patience. Every thing, every body irritated me. I wanted nothing whatsoever to do with most of these people! Once the initial wave of “oh my God, real people to talk to!,” passed, there was only a vague sense of annoyance about how “needy” everyone was!

I made excuses, justifications, for myself and everyone else. I explained away both their need for attention and my reluctance to give it. I played the game. Slowly I regained the ability to talk with and interact quite harmlessly, but there remained between us a social distance I still haven’t managed to bridge. I told my friends how eager I was to reconnect, and yet…. It’s August 2021, and I still haven’t seen most of them! And if I am honest, I’m not sure I even want to anymore. People-ing takes energy and motivation, and I have too little of both.

And I know I’m not the only one to feel this way…

I know this because of the noise. I know this because the distress within that din grows louder every day. I know this because panic rides on the leading edge of every sound wave reaching me these days. I sense this in the sudden desperation so many of us feel to reach out and touch someone! Anyone!

“Can you hear me now?”

“Is there anybody out there?”

Snippets and phrases from ads, books or shows. Lyrics from long-forgotten songs. Replays of my life cast with new characters following old, and trite, story lines. Dead mingling with the living. And all of it tinged with a hint of great import, offered up in a vessel corrupted and vile…

And the “why… why… why…?!” Like a bass drum in my mind!

Like a single heartbeat echoing through Time…

And the words that return are simple and pure…

“Shut up! And breathe! Just breathe…

“… while you still can!”

Tough love or cruelty? You be the judge…

Recalled…

Today the past came calling in a dreadfully (yet exciting) day, when I found myself, quite literally, a few decades astray. For a time (pun intended) it was so real that “surreal” meant something other than the exotic rush such words are meant to convey; it became an apt descriptor of the times I found my Way!

I saw myself, I felt myself exactly as I was then. And just as suddenly I knew my self exactly as I am. There was no awakening accompanying this moment, no reflection…. No epiphany at all. Just a lifetime of remembering in an instant of total recall!

There was joy and sorrow, grief and regret, a happiness I still haven’t experienced yet. There was laughter tainted with madness, and tears diluted with grins. And a sense of belonging so deep in my be-ing, it choked on my definition of One.

I heard Her voice, I claimed her rage; I understood it as my own. I passed it on to others because I sensed it could be done. And when the terror rushed in, seeking its attention, I tossed it aside quite easily; a flick of the wrist, a tiny twist, and… poof… instantaneously gone!

But wait! No no no no no no… Back up! Rewind! Slo mo! Before I forget, I must admit… I must admit….

What?! Or when? Or why (always why)?!

Who is She and how… am I?

Too late! Too late… It echoes… Reverberates.

…

Now. What was it I was trying to say? Hmm…. Sorry. So sorry. I think…

I forget.

And far away… in distance? In time? An emotionless voice in a vacuum, a void…

“Sorry. So sorry. But this model’s been recalled.”

Sooo…

Yesterday I was almost late to work because I got caught behind a huge funeral procession on the highway. This morning I forgot to turn the house alarm off before going outside, thus scaring my daughter half to death…

Think maybe my intuition and imagination are a tad bit entangled without a proper outlet?

Lol! 😉

Unquotables #36

Turns out Death is not the final arbiter between people or nations; the arguments continue…

“In case of emergency…”

The sound of shattering glass brought him to full consciousness at last, feeling like a punch to the guts. In the confusion that followed such breathlessness, Thomas noticed his own hand hovering above the red handle, so recently shielded. Without further hesitation he closed the gap, bloodied knuckles capturing his complete attention as he pulled the red lever down…

Glancing anxiously about, he steeled himself to the decibels of repeating alert he had sounded. “Where is the fire?,” he asked himself. “I should be smelling smoke by now!”

Doors began opening down the empty hall; people began pouring out. Like worker drones abandoning the hive, they moved with one will to get outside. Caught up in the crowd, Thomas followed along; not thinking he might have another choice right now. Until he was free of the building and thought to turn back, expecting to see flames or a column of smoke…

But there was none…

Nothing…

Not a light in the sky, nor a cloud on the horizon. Just placid non-expressions standing all around him. “But what?…. But why?…,” he tried hard to remember. But there was nothing there to ignite recognition.

Not a spark, nor a flash. Not a boom, nor a whisper. Not a single clue presented itself to bear witness. “Why would I set off the fire alarm?,” he desperately questioned. But no answer came, other than the incessant din…

That urgent rhythm, that repeating ring… Like a heartbeat on steroids, or anxiety without treatment. Panic settled in as delusions often do, in a misplaced attempt to make sense where sense isn’t. “There must be a reason! I wouldn’t just… react?” No certainty, either, in this place without facts…

“In case of emergencies,…” he remembered reading the words.

“Ahh…. No fire, then,” he breathed his relief through his horror, surrounded by death and deafness in this world. And settling in to the mindlessness around him, Thomas surrendered his consciousness once more…

“I see dead people…”

I am surrounded by dead people, both consciously and adrift in the dream world. I keep trying to avoid them, but they are everywhere and every when. I close my eyes and am assaulted in every setting I devise, even when aware enough to change venues and times. I open my eyes to discover the dead are not far behind…

Why???

And then I hear that tiny voice echoing through my mind…

“I see dead people…”

And I remember the twist that rhymes…

(“Are you sure you’re still alive??!”)

“Good question,” I reply…

“You’re Alive?!”

“You’re alive?!” are the words most often spoken when the silence first breaks in my shadowed nook.

“So it would seem…,” my auto-response, offered with less certainty and sincerity than it looks.

“Where have you been?,” is always the next logical question.

But if we’re being rational, you might better ask, “when?”

“When have I been spending my time?”

“Why I’ve been searching the timelines, every now and then.

“Looking for… Some… thing, I guess, I can’t even define.”

“Are you well?,” they inquire with all good intent.

“I am coping,” I respond; of this much I am certain.

“Coping?… Just coping? Is that the best you can say?”

“Coping…. Yes, coping. I think that’s enough for today.”

Were you expecting some wisdom? Some enlightenment? Some hope?

Of those I have little, so it’s best just to “cope.“

Too many voices screaming in outrage…

Too many hearts bleeding in pain…

Too many slaves trying to escape all at once…

Too many Masters clamping down in response!

The world is trembling and tilting too much

Routine is my goal despite wrenching my guts!

Do you suppose there is some sort of cosmic Dramamine?

To help ease this motion sickness of universal unraveling…

Not that I’ve found yet, and I’ve been every-when

Searching for… some…. thing beyond my limited perception.

For Truth? Or escape? More likely Relief…

Something to ease this perpetual grief.

But, alas, it eludes me, this means to end suffering.

And my Master is calling my name once again.

Best get up and go while the going is still possible

Let delusion be my guide in this sea of impass-ibles.

“See you later,” I toss over my shoulder when leaving.

“Or not…,” I whisper to myself, expecting nothing

“You’re alive?!,” echoes softly as the silence creeps in

“Am I really?,” I have to ask my Self once again.

“Is this reality…? This existence… all that there is?

Or is Life itself just a ghost in a mirror?