In A Deadly Moment

In Ambrose Bierce classic short story, An Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge, a man is about to be hanged during the American civil war. The rope breaks and he is set free to run home to his plantation and the loving arms of his wife. When he touches her embraces her, he realizes it was all a desperate fantasy at the moment of his death. A rough short version of the story. 

I sometimes feel or wonder if that is how MY life is: That this is all some desperate subconscious death fantasy I am living. At any moment there will be shock of pain, horror and AWAKENING and I will die. 

But not in the life I have been living or thought I was living.

Maybe I will realize that I did not survive that miraculous fall through the ice of that pond in the winter of one of my late teens.

Nor that suicide attempt a little later.

Am I still falling forever dreaming ignoring the air rushing through my mind after those kids let go of my legs laughing then screaming as they saw my body fall from that high window in the psychiatric hospital?

Maybe I will awaken for a fraction of thought and understanding that I did NOT survive that drunken naked jump  at night off into what I thought was a flooded gravel pit only to realize no I did not climb out but perhaps my body still lies in the murk and muck of it to some day in THIS future.

So MANY times I drove drunk in my youth and perhaps I will awaken from this NOW to my face smashing into a car or truck windshield.

I doubt if I could have imagined a life this long at 18 months with such detail not having experienced ANYTHING.

If this has all been a dream at the moment of the many times I nearly died… then oh what a dream life I have had… what a life …

 

A Radical View Of Obama And Beyond

 
I think that the Left is on a nostalgia trip about Obama that is Unrealistic in these times. We want a hero and he cannot BE that hero due to the etiquette and tradition restraints of the Ex Presidents Club. A big rule of that Club is to not talk shit about the present president. Totally not cool and so it neuters that whole hero thing. You hear Obama in his speeches and you want him to be the Knight that comes to save the country.
 
NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
 
The Ex Presidents Club does not allow it.
 
Every time he gives a public speech millions on the left hold their breath waiting for the hero to come out and save us.
 
Big exhale of frustration.
 
Retired. Has a life to live NOT being a hero. Inspiration ? Yeah sure. NOT a warrior now. A very cautious tactful private citizen that has to be cool because he is a member of that exclusive small club of the Ex Presidents.
 
He is a short time ago now nostalgia trip for many.
Not a super man now.
 
If we are looking for Heroes and SuperMenWomen, we need to look around us for the bold wild horses that can say anything without the constraints put on so many current and ex politicians. Or current politicians that have the courage and will to be open and honest and face the winds that may create that will blow against their face… possibly our new face.

Just A Thought ;-)

Dreams are simply the incidents of some of the thousands if not millions of alternate dimensions with another YOU leaking into your sleep. Incidents from OTHER YOU lives. Now imagine another you from another dimensional world dreaming of YOUR mundane life and waking from it as a … nightmare 😉

The Teachers In The Eyes Reflecting Us

Every Being that enters our lives is a teacher to us of who WE are.

An ant we crush or ignore. 

The same, a spider. 

A rabbit we kill or help grow a patch of sweet grass for. 

A cruel person we forgive and offer compassion to.

A sick person we reach for to help,

Instead of shying away loathing them

And fearing some contagion. 

Every encounter with another person is a classroom of learning

About who WE are

What WE are about

Are we the greedy one

The angry frightened one

The cruel one

Or are we the generous

The brave and loving one 

Compassionate 

Empathetic 

A giver 

Or a Taker?

What lesson of our Selves is reflected in our words

Our actions 

To this person 

That Being

That organism

Or even that memory of another?

We are the students that grow from the smile we see in the face of another

Appreciating how WE WERE TO THEM

We learn

If wise,

We change

To become the reason for a sincere smile

Or the trusting momentary stay of some smaller life form near us

A bird that pauses to be in the tree near us

A stray animal that moves toward us and not away.

“Unsee”

There are words that are new to my ancient mind and ass these past decades. One of them is, “unsee”. It crops up a lot. I wish I could Unsee it after I see it.

“Unsee”. It’s another puzzling expression to me. It means you HAVE TO LOOK AT what someone says you CANNOT UNSEE so you can decide wether or not. I guess it’s something horrible like being a kid and opening your parents bedroom door and SEEING something you want to remove from your mind. Unfortunately for my parents, I think after ME they never had sex again. They SAW me and decided celibacy or something was better than another ONE OF THOSE! Now I vaguely recall some bowel movements people left without toilet paper on them in toilets that I WAS able to UNSEE because well nature takes it’s course of healing. SOME PTSD you can get over some you cannot. Then again I DO still remember the one giant evidence of the MAD CRAPPER at work years ago. When I happen to stumble on it in memory I just think, “oh I saw a giant black football many years ago”.

Hey if you found that amusing… you are welcome!
If not… I HOPE YOU CAN UNSEE THIS POST!

On 63

As a guilty if not purely stupid pleasure and obsession, I gifted myself a 27″ iMac. Yes, more debt. It will probably be my last big purchase for however long. I made the unpacking of it like a religious ceremony late at night. 

Worship the machine! 

REVERENCE. 

Sorrow. 

Grief. 

A feeling I have completed a circle or cycle in my life. 

Apple makes such things very easy. They have a thing called, “Time Machine” that makes copies of your system every hour or so. I did that with my old Mac Mini. My trusty old little machine. I backed it up on an external hard drive. Feeling over confident, I opened the old Mac and went through the process of mind wiping it. I felt like I was killing an old friend. Lobotomizing it. I went through the process and made sure none of my old data was on it. It was no longer my little friend: It was a cold stranger like that I once unboxed new. 

I admit  I was skeptical of the Time Machine back-up. Over confident too.  I felt my skepticism was affirmed when I tried to install a back-up from the old into the new. From the external hard drive. Things were a bit of a mess. I feared a loss of so much data and programs. It was after midnight and I gave it another try. I read some basic instructions how to do it then tried and failed. Then tried again with my own “ok try THIS combination of commands”.

Slowly it seemed to work. 

Watching a line of time flow across the screen. 1 hour 46 minutes … a countdown. The damned screen kept trying to sleep. Like my mind at that hour after 2AM. Finally the screen just blinked out and I felt I had failed again. 

Then it came to life.

Slowly.

The old computer would have been savagely grunting to do the work but this one quietly pushed through something. 

Reluctantly it came to life and the desktop was just like my old Mac. Brighter and more clear. It was a mind and memory transferred from one host to another after a few tweaks. Memory from one mind and body to another. Wipe clean the old.

Chilling.

Amazing.

I see this is what some would like to do with humans. It is the stuff of science fiction on a very small scale.

I am writing this on my 63rd birthday.

A great sense of sadness and perplexity.

For weeks I have wanted this machine.

Oh and the new mattress I got and slept on last night.

What is it all about? I wonder.

I think there is something deep in my subconscious that is making me do this. Obsessive. YES the debt will be difficult. But I feel a FINALITY to it all. A goal achieved. In a way a letting go of the past. A starting new that has nothing to do with 63 years of life. Perhaps there is something in my genes talking to me about all this.

A pattern.

A feeling of my mortality more than ever.

The clarity that has come from Fasting every week.

Greater fears and lesser fears.

A fascination with suicide for a time and now these very life-affirming actions. 

Eros and Thanatos had a baby and I am reborn in myself through their intercourse during battle. 

What do I feel now that I have achieved the installation of this machine?

It is not just that.

During the past week that I took off I used it for reflection or a waiting for answers or some form of enlightenment to fall into me. I converted musics from CD’s to computer files. This is complete now. I altered the interior of my house to make it more clean and roomy. 

What is surprising now is that I feel I am adrift in space. Lonely and cold inside and that all this does not matter. The machines do not matter. 

My past does not matter.

The people in my past no longer exist. They may look like people I once knew but I no longer know them. Perhaps the same with family. 

I have felt such a BURDEN of my past pushing down on me and now …perhaps this past week has set me free of it.

Maybe I grieve for the hot knives removed 

That Identity with the guilt and imagined judgements of others, passing. 

I am free … but empty and sad at the same time.

It is amusing that when people speak of therapists to me, I laugh. I probably know more about psychology and the human psyche than many of THEM because I have LIVED and EXPERIENCED. For example, someone suggested a suicide hotline to me. I laughed it off because I believe I know more than THEY would on that hotline. A friend of mine is on a hotline and yet that friend is a very fucked-up human. How do you save others if you are so fucked-up?

We save others With OUR SHARED HUMANITY. 

We save ourselves by KNOWING OUR HUMANITY.

We don’t have to be happy all the time as so many believe.

What helps is if we KNOW OUR HUMANITY most of the time.

Looking Back At Myself Long Ago Having Sex

Sometimes I remember some of the wild sexual times I had when I had wild sexual times. They play across my mind briefly like snips of porn movies. Unlike porn movies, I feel guilty and not bored as I would these days. Guilty because I feel like I am watching a family member have sex. You know: You open a door and OH SHIT THAT MAN THAT LOOKS LIKE ME IS HAVING SEX!!!!!! Oh and who is he WITH? Aw shit. Forgot her name already. It will come to me… I just hope MY name never comes to her … so long ago it was. 

Then I close the door on those memories but creep away not being guilt ridden but over ridden by my perfectionistic impulses these days. Hey let’s go back and tell that man how to do better…

“Better” THESE days would be… Ok don’t be in such a damned hurry to get her clothes off. NO PAWING, DAMMIT! STOP THE PIG MAN ACT! Hi hey let’s just take it slow and watch a movie for a while or hey let’s NOT do THAT tonight we can wait until we are BOTH in the mood. Drink? Hey I think I’ll take your suggestion and try being sober now…

Yeah THAT would have been better with everyone but… AND hey kid – next time you do THAT for an hour on such rough carpet, have the fore sight to wear some knee pads. Oh and Bring her a pair too. Yeah baby got this stuff for us both. It’s another form of… safe sex.

Mind And Memory

Sometimes I don’t know where I am

Inside 

Or out

For a moment,

Caught in a memory

Wondering if it is real 

Or was

Caught in a moment

For a Memory

Wondering if was real.

Sometimes audio and video come to mind

For a moment,

Blinded 

Deafened by it all

I wonder if it was me

A memory

A song

A television show

A movie

Or something seen …. Somewhere 

I can’t remember

I just don’t know

And for a moment that is the torture of it all…

I just don’t know

Don’t remember.

Then I awaken to the moment

THIS moment

Calmly looking around with a comforting realization,

“THIS is all that matters

NOT what I said or did in my past

NOT what others said or did in my past

The world’s past 

Or present.

NOT what some fiction was,

Heard

Or Seen

But what is NOW 

Inside me.

NOT the trail of lives I left behind me in unmarked graves

In the graveyard of my mind

But the trail of healed lives

Healed memories 

Healed SELF

I will create 

And live

From this…… MOMENT FORWARD. 

Realizations After A Fast (May Sound Like Gibberish)

 
What seems like many years ago I had an interest in buddhism. I realized it is the best way for this world and myself. My brother in law saw a violent video game on my computer and pointed out my hypocrisy.
 
I felt very bad about that, that I was not buddha-like 😉 That I felt something in the violence of games and entertainments. It has felt a guilty burden inside me.
 
In time I realize that if we see the way of the buddha as the way,
what we do is reach for it and walk toward it. Sometimes we stumble and fall or fall backward. What we need do is rise up, crawl, stumble or walk toward the buddha we seek inside. We may never be the buddha others see but we can try to be the buddha self WE want to be.
 
For example, I can be bitter and cynical at times. I can use profanities and wish bad to happen to some but deep inside I can see that buddha I chase calling to me with a calm smile. I can look beyond my fear based hates of politicians and others and see his smile beyond in a constantly changing face of man and woman and often see that face within my crowded mind and the world around me.
 
I am not my toxic feelings.
They are like farts we let loose but we are NOT the farts.
We are the person digesting the good food that may create and let them go. We are the strength in the good we choose to be. Everything else is a temporary bad stench that is ONLY me only US if we choose to be that or allow others to define us as THAT and believe it.
 
I am the person getting up from many falls in the past present and future and choosing to wave and smile (often wearily) at the sometimes distant sometimes near smile of the calm loving buddha beckoning me… forward and in the moment to be that calm that love that smile. To be my own scarred flawed imperfect buddha self.

A Simple Act Of Honor

 

Today I was driving home after work when someone almost hit me. I had the right of way and there was a merging of traffic. I stayed in my lane to (ironically) avoid a chance of hitting someone. I had a car on my right side and fortunately nobody directly behind me. I hit the brakes just enough to avoid hitting them and let them go forward. No horn honked. They KNEW they had almost hit me. I think my squealing tires may have been heard. I calmed down and slowly got into the left lane I wanted to. They hung back behind me then they slowly moved up to my right. I was calming myself with my “shit happens” mantra and thinking too that it could have been ME doing the stupid like they did. 

The car came up equal to my right side. Drivers window down. The driver leaned over and yelled that he was “sorry” he almost hit me! He said, “I want to apologize!” I yelled at him smiling, “shit happens!” And laughed. He looked sheepish. I gave him first a thumbs up and then a peace sign and made sure by doing so I did not hit anyone with the distraction. As he passed me again later, I flashed the peace sign. 

Despite almost getting side swiped and missing being so by mere inches, I felt GOOD because I had encountered someone that had SEEN they had done a stupid or careless act and then found it in themselves to have the HONOR TO APOLOGIZE!

Continuing on my way home, I looked for an opportunity to pay it forward. Feeling a bit foolish too wanting to find someone I could do a good thing to. 

Maybe tomorrow… 😉

Honorable people are rarities to me. Now matter what happened, I am inspired and grateful meeting them. 

(I think though, I’ll look for another route home tomorrow…) 😉