Friday, November 26, 2010

And so it begins...

As I look about the world, wondering and suspecting at the same time, it becomes largely clear that whatever fallow period I have endured is coming to an end. This may or may not be a good thing. It certainly had to come at some point. What it will look like is anyone's guess.

One can self-search, looking into the depths of why or what drew me away from my destiny. Perhaps it was destiny itself, that strange and precipitous fortune, who calcified my will in order to transmute it into something else, something intensely personal and free. This is not a place I aspire to. Comfort has become my drug of choice over the last decade.

And yet, here I am once again, loosened on the moors. Shaking the firmament, as my new analytical Jungian psychotherapist refers to it. The multiple sychronicities and "chance" encounters with beings in whom my ego has an agenda (that's a laugh)are offset by the mysterious dimensions of fate which may or may not involve any of them ever again. Which is not to say that these meetings are irrelevant, far from it. The ego can rarely transcend itself unless it is played expertly by a trickster of some archetypal veracity. In my case, that trickster has sat fallow on my head for the better part of ten years, a dormant blue period ironically symbolized by the most blue of all blues, the Dodgers.

Remember the old adage, "if you want to make God laugh, show him your plans". Baba has once again waved his ever present hand over my world in order to reveal itself to itself. My participation is not my own doing, by no means, no more than a small raft drifts through tributaries it did not see coming. The mistake is to classify surrender it these terms, as a peaceful acceptance of the raft's ultimate journey. Not so! Hitting the sides of the coral wall is every bit as much a part of letting go as open water. How else would I know the possibilities of a drum without the softness of my skin to bring forth its music? "There is a better way to go through life than kicking and screaming", as my late mentor Hugh Prather once said. If only my mind stayed still long enough to enable my body to reside in this beingness of place. Or is it the other way around?

See you on down the road.


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