A LIFE LESS WRITTEN
What is does and What isn’t doesn’t.
Joy A. Sters
January 29, 2018
Had thought some different kind of living might transpire last week … that’s what you get for thinking. I did get to see once again that what is going to happen; does and what isn’t; doesn’t.
Again, a very small world, Linda Gray Sexton’s book about her relationship with her mother just arrived and is titled: Searching for Mercy Street. It has a quote on the first page by guess who … can’t guess:
“If I can write everything out plainly, perhaps I will myself understand better what has transpired.”
Looked out and up a few times recently and saw the Full Moon forming its way into the Dream World … however it wasn’t until tonight that I checked to see its official date as it is looking close to Full but not quite there yet and found out the following:
Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse January 2018
January 31, 2018, brings us an extremely potent Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse in the sign of Leo.
Let’s first break down the meaning of the name of this Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse-
Super: A Super Moon happens when the Full Moon is closest to Earth. This Lunar Eclipse is going to be nice and close to Earth, which means visibility will be high and its energetic effects will be strong.
Blood: A Blood Moon is used to describe a series of three or more Total Lunar Eclipses, but the name comes from the fact that a Total Eclipse gives the Moon a reddish glow. Blood Moon’s are quite rare, and we haven’t had one since 2015. Because Blood Moon’s always happen in series, we will have two more Total Lunar Eclipses to follow, one later in 2018 and another in 2019.
Blue: A Blue Moon is the second Full Moon of the month. Whenever there are two Full Moon’s in a month, the second is referred to as a Blue Moon. This is also an extremely rare occurrence and makes this Eclipse particularly significant. Interestingly enough, 2018 brings us two Blue Moons!
Phew! Just to put it into context, the last time we experienced a Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse was 36 years ago, but having this type of Eclipse in the sign of Leo is extremely rare and has not occurred in hundreds or possibly even thousands of years.
Whenever we have a rare celestial event such as this, we feel the energy strongly and it has the potential to cause huge ripples and waves in our lives.
Eclipses always come in cycles, and this Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse is linked to the Eclipses back in February and August of 2017.
This means that whatever lessons or themes were brewing for you around that time are now coming to an end, and you will be able to bring closure and resolution to those energies.
Think back to what was stirring for you especially during the Total Solar Eclipse that happened on August 21st, 2017.
It is likely that whatever the August 2017 Total Solar Eclipse brought into your life is now being wrapped up, resolved and put to rest.
When thinking back to what was stirring for you, pay attention to what was unfolding on a spiritual and emotional level, not just on a physical or external one.
2017 was a transformative year for a lot people, and perhaps the months since the August Total Solar Eclipse have allowed things to move in a new direction for you.
The January Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse is not only going to help bring resolution and closure to the last half of 2017, it is also going to open and activate a new energy that we are all going to be working with until the next round of Eclipses in July and August 2018.
Eclipses often bring turning points in our lives. They are often an instigator for change and illuminate areas of our lives that need attention.
The Moon represents our emotions and how we feel safe and secure as we move through the world. During an Eclipse, our sense of security and comfort is often shaken in some way, and we are given the opportunity to really look within and discover our fears, hopes, dreams and the truth.
Seeing as this Blood Blue Moon Eclipse falls in the fire sign of Leo, it is really going to be guiding us to take charge of our lives and to step into that role of being the King or Queen of our own jungle.
As this is Full Moon energy, most of the action we are going to have to take will include clearing things out, doing away with the past and letting things go.
Even though the fiery Leo energy will want us to act, there is also a need to retreat and to clear things from within first. In fact, hidden truths and buried emotions are likely to stir around Eclipse time, and you may need to let things rise up before you know the best course of action.
Eclipses are always emotionally supercharged, and this is even more so. This Eclipse is likely to increase your sensitivity and bring up heated emotions.
Old wounds from the past may resurface, and you may find yourself digging through some muck in order to make sense of the things around you.
If things get intense, or your sense of security is shaken up under the presence of this Eclipse, remember that this is just so you can make some positive changes in your life.
You always have an inner power and inner strength, and tuning into lion or lioness energy and finding your pride is really going to help you.
When you feel safe and secure from within it gives you the confidence to express your truth, be who you are and to go after your dreams. This Eclipse is going to be helping you find your way through this, and to find your inner strength so you can feel confident in who you are and what you are here to do.
If you allow the energy of this Blood Blue Moon Eclipse to filter into your life and you embrace the changes and inspirations that it brings, you will really be given a huge push to create a new state of being for yourself.
A state of being where you can feel confident, loved and supported by yourself and by the world around you. A state of being where you have the confidence to be yourself and live your truth.
To achieve this state of being, you have to connect with your heart center and tune into that intuitive voice of wisdom.
This Total Lunar Eclipse carries a strong feminine energy and will really help you to connect to that intuitive, softer heart-centered place we all have inside.
In fact, the strong feminine energy around this Lunar Eclipse is likely to bring about global changes for women as well. Under the presence of this Eclipse, we may experience a rise up of feminine power and a focus on equal rights for women.
The Super Blood Blue Moon Eclipse is definitely a special celestial event that will really shape the direction and energy of the year ahead. The best thing to do is sit back, surrender and join the Universal flow.
This is an intense Eclipse and it is likely that you will be feeling its effects for a few weeks until the energy settles. Just be gentle with yourself and observe any themes, issues or patterns that emerge.
If something starts slipping away from your life, or if something is abruptly ended around Eclipse time, trust that it is meant to be, and allow things to take their natural course.
The January 31st Eclipse is a potent one, and there is no doubt that it will put you where you need to be and beckon you to a higher state of consciousness.
Am going to see what was going on or around August 21, 2017. It is from the SELF-INVESTIGATION Journal THESE HANDS it is the first Journal in that Series of Writings. The following is the writing done on August 21, 2017 haven’t read it yet but did see a clip from SHERWOOD ANDERSON which is rather funny to already see him show up in two different places on the same day:
Monday, August 21, 2017
All True Voices are but yourSelf, externalized.
-Wayneji, Spiritual Vitamins
Nothing back from Wayneji.
Internally nothing has changed.
Frank Ocean’s SELF CONTROL has been playing between the ears. Makes for tears sometimes. Best Album these ears have heard in a long time: BLONDE. He really is a genius. It’s one of those albums that you sit down and listen from beginning to end. You make time for it. There are so few albums this happens with anymore but this certainly is one of them. THE1975 too (though it’s hard to sit down to theirs.)
There has been sickness in the body.
Release and processing out.
There have been many strange feelings in the body … one’s that have not come up before. Have just sat through them as they arise … which is not the norm. Usually such intense emotion is moved away from, but that didn’t happen this time. There has been the sense or a sense in the air for a while now that time is short. Not even sure what that means … if it is death or what … it’s not known … it is just felt and experienced as if there is a clock on the wall, ticking, ticking and it’s ticking for the one aware of it.
I don’t know who I am, what I will do from one moment to the next. It is just watching and waiting to see what happens, if anything, but who watches … is not obvious, there is simply just watching.
There have been many fear thoughts arising and just watching them as they bubble up … sometimes dragging one under until it becomes obvious that, that is just a thought too, no different from any other and then there is a kind of release.
We (Robert Downstairs and I) are at the Solar Eclipse in Salem Oregon. The world looks very strange right now … there is a tint on it and it is starting to get dark … it is supposed to get completely dark in 3 minutes.
It is not completely dark … the sky is still light and the sun has a black hole covering it but it just came back out and it is very very shiny and bright … just a tiny blip of the sun and it lights nearly the whole sky. Glad to have come. There is a strange sensation in the air … it is like being in a literal twilight zone movie/show.
It was pretty cool for a 2 minute experience. When the sun started peeking back out from the moon it was an explosion of brightness. The sky got dark but not black. A lot of people came out for this thing. Hotels were running $700 a night … good thing we waited till morning to leave. It was an easy ride up. Robert mentioned going to some dunes … sand dunes … so we may be doing that now.
August 21, 2017
Solar Eclipse you are a trip
You were no more than
A momentary blip
On the screen of life
Of so much hype
You'd think you made day
Turn to night
Oh wait you did
If you’d blink
You wouldn’t have noticed
But just in time
In the morning to show us
That life is a
Strange and incredible thing
When the moon can make the sun
Look like a ring.
I have got to get better at Poetry … Wayneji said I would write a really good poem before I die … I would like that. Everything in life improves with death. Maybe some of the poetry I currently think is crappy will end up good when I die? Mebe.
Can’t think of Mikel for long before it just hurts too much.
Just read this in SHERWOOD ANDERSON’s PREMIUM COLLECTION … It is a short story, which actually is rather long, and is called MARCHING MEN. This small part really stuck out … it seemed a short story within a short story. It is also interesting to read it during THE HAPPY TIME because there is such a pull to be near HIM and to pro-create:
Modern men and women who live in industrial cities are like mice that have come out of the fields to live in houses that do not belong to them. They live within the dark walls of the houses where only a dim light penetrates, and so many have come that they grow thin and haggard with the constant toil of getting food and warmth. Behind the walls the mice scamper about in droves, and there is much squealing and chattering. Now and then a bold mouse stands upon his hind legs and addresses the others. He declares he will force his way through the walls and conquer the gods who have built the house. "I will kill them," he declares. "The mice shall rule. You shall live in the light and the warmth. There shall be food for all and no one shall go hungry.” The little mice, gathered in the darkness out of sight in the great houses, squeal with delight. After a time when nothing happens they become sad and depressed. Their minds go back to the time when they lived in the fields, but they do not go out of the walls of the houses, because long living in droves has made them afraid of the silence of long nights and the emptiness of skies. In the houses giant children are being reared. When the children fight and scream in the houses and in the streets, the dark spaces between the walls rumble with strange and appalling noises. The mice are terribly afraid. Now and then a single mouse for a moment escapes the general fear. A mood comes over such a one and a light comes into his eyes. When the noises run through the houses he makes up stories about them. "The horses of the sun are hauling wagon loads of days over the tops of trees," he says and looks quickly about to see if he has been heard. When he discovers a female mouse looking at him he runs away with a flip of his tail and the female follows. While other mice are repeating his saying and getting some little comfort from it, he and the female mouse find a warm dark corner and lie close together. It is because of them that mice continue to be born to dwell within the walls of the houses.
ANDERSON, SHERWOOD. SHERWOOD ANDERSON PREMIUM COLLECTION 8 BOOKS (5 Novels + 3 Short Story Collections) (Timeless Wisdom Collection Book 1530) (Kindle Locations 10064-10080). Business and Leadership Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Well, it seems there is much unresolved stuff for this Super Moon to eclipse out of my person. Nothing has settled in regard to Mikel. It still hardly registers as true. Dan is now seemingly gone as well. There is no Him and Robert(downstairs) and I don’t even look at each other anymore let alone communicate in any other regard. So we shall see what this Moon clears up … if anything even need be cleared up. Not sure how SHERWOOD relates but it’s always nice to see his name.
Harold's Mom wrote the following about Him:
(1969 - 2018)
Harold, 48, passed away unexpectedly in Treasure Island, FL on Monday, Jan. 15, 2018. He was born in 1969, in New London, spent his childhood in Gales Ferry, and graduated from Ledyard High School. After receiving his bachelor of science degree in business administration from the University of Vermont, he began his career as a CPA at a large audit and accounting firm in Boston, Mass. Later heading west, Harold enjoyed the peace and beauty of northern California and Ashland, Ore., and worked as a property assessor in Siskiyou County. A dreamer from birth and ever up for a challenge, Harold decided in his 40s to pursue an acting career. He found satisfaction in acting around Hollywood, Calif. and St. Petersburg, Fla., earned his Screen Actors Guild card, and worked in both television and commercials. A lover of life and expression, Harold was a committed fan of pro football, electronic dance music and spicy food. He practiced meditation, shared laughter and warmth wherever he went, and saw the best in everyone. Harold is survived by his son, his parents and his sister. A small service for family and friends will follow the calling hours. The family requests that in lieu of sending flowers, people consider making a donation in Harold's memory to The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse or to the charity of their choice.
I do find it strange he died on Martin Luther King’s Birthday. I suppose it seems strange because he has been called a Dreamer. Also it is strange that they would have donations go to The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse as it seems highly out of character for anything Weale would do … if he were to have a donation sent anywhere I would think it would be MAPS for responsible drug use or Erowid. I haven’t had a party weekend … not like the ones like Harold and I used to have not since we separated space but long weekends made for long parties sometimes. I hope he went out feeling good. I hope the same for Mikel.
Steinbeck on Russia (he had recently visited) dated February 12, 1948:
“The Russian pieces in the papers were very successful here. I don’t know what the book will do. The Russians have been doing such bad things lately with their art stultifications and their silly attacks on musicians and the decree about no Russian being allowed to speak to foreigners that it makes me feel sad. It looks as though we were the last ones in for a very long time. Under the new decree we could not have spoken to any of the people we did. They have already destroyed all good or even interesting painting. There isn’t much of any good writing and now they knock over music. The stupid sons of bitches. I wonder whether there is any secret writing or painting being done. It would surprise me if a few creative individuals weren’t practicing in cellars. And the small Russian people are such nice people.” (p. 306, Letters)
Interesting insight just read from Steinbeck … his writings put my mind to ease … very few things in life do that … most things antagonize the mind but anytime I pick up this book of Letters the body/mind naturally relaxes and simple reading ensues … not reading to gain anything or learn anything just the joy of reading for readings sake … but this came through as interesting probably because I have had similar thoughts as well … especially after so many failed attempts at relationship and Steinbeck is about to catch up with me as he is currently nearing the end of his second marriage:
“I haven’t asked about your girl because I thought you did not want to talk about her. I have thought that men and women should never come together except in bed. There is the only place where their natural hatred of each other is not so apparent. Many animals from deer to dogs have no association between the male and the female except in the rutting season or the heat of the female. In this way they may be very biologically wise because the warfare between the unaroused male and female is constant and ferocious. Each blames the other for his loss of soul.” (p. 313, Letters)
He was also a very sensitive man, prone to depression and also deep insights, nightmares and clairvoyance and I put this in here because just recently I went through a whole nightmarish Dark time and then Harold died and Steinbeck is writing to his friend about how he had gone through something that seems similar to what I did right before his good friend Ed Ricketts had been killed … hit by a train while in his car:
“I have had the death feeling very strongly for some time now as you know but maybe this was it (meaning Ricketts). I am capable sometimes of horrifying clairvoyances. They come out of the air. My mother had the second sight and so has one of my sisters, and I seem to have it a little. But I don’t have the death feeling now.” (p. 313)
Ok just one more thing and I just couldn’t be happier to hear it … because even after his having success at writing he still did not even know if he is Writer.
“That god damned book is going to get written. I’m forty-six now and if I am going to be a writer I’d better god damned well get to it.” (p. 315)
Heh! This body I’m in is going to be 47 in just a few … well, daze really … hadn’t thought about it until looking at the P-Tracker … which states that I will be bleeding on that day … kind of strange or ironic that I am often bleeding on the day this body was supposedly born.
What’s a girl to do … but there is just insight after insight while reading this book … most of which, you probably are surprised to hear, has not been written into this document … however, these two things he writes relates to Wayneji mentioning that:
"Every death is your own.”
And there has even been a Writing Practice done on it which again was written but not actually Grokked but has been coming up again and again and now especially with Harold … because even though I didn’t see us coming back together again as a couple … I still saw myself in and sometimes “as” him and this sort of sounds like something one would write about Harold:
“‘Knowing Ed Ricketts was instant. After the first moment I knew him, and for the next eighteen years I knew him better than I knew anyone, and perhaps I did not know him at all. Maybe it was that way with all his friends. He was different from anyone and yet so like that everyone found himself in Ed, and that might be one of the reasons his death had such an impact. It wasn’t Ed who had died but a large and important part of oneself.’” (p. 316, Letters)
“I have been sitting alone in my hotel room for some days now. Impact is not sharp now—all dulled out. It would be interesting if we all flew apart now like an alarm clock when you pry off the mainspring with a screw driver. Wouldn’t it be interesting if Ed was us and that now there wasn’t any such thing or that he created out of his own mind something that went away with him. I’ve wondered a lot about that. How much was Ed and how much was me and which was which.” (p. 316)
Ok … I am going to make a bit of confession and will do it here even though I sometimes actually often regret putting anything in here that could cause discomfort because it often ends up doing just that … however … Saturday I got on the bus … there had been no intention to do so until maybe just an hour or two before it happened … and that hour or two was spent tidying up the apartment and showering and getting dressed … none of it was rushed as there really was only the idea it would happen and not so much the intention. However, I got on the bus … sat for Meditation … it was incredibly quiet on the bus … noticeably quiet, as if there would not have been surprise if one opened the eyes and everyone was gone. However, after Meditation … and the eyes opened … everyone was seemingly still there. Got to Medford and still wasn’t sure what I was doing … if anything … the thoughts had been to just go the bus stop that I hadn’t gone to the week prior … but I found it rather strange that when I got to the connecting station I couldn’t even recall what bus to get on. I went to the window and looked it up and was actually kind of surprised at what number the bus was … it all had just sort of been wiped out of the mind. However I went over and got on that bus … but I didn’t get off at the stop I thought I would have … I got off at the same one I had the week prior … I walked around not knowing what I was doing or why and then I walked to the bus stop I thought I would have wanted to be at the week prior … but there was nothing there … I started to wonder if I had been duped or just made the whole thing up. The bus came back around … I got on and uneventfully made it all the way back. Actually I got off at the connecting station and walked around town for a bit … realized I totally have to get the Medical Marijuana card … I recently found Harold's and mine’s from way back in the day … I had forgotten we even got those … but they are expired now. I get very anxious in public and sometimes pot helps and sometimes it makes it worse but it is always good to have the option.
Basically the thoughts around going there were that I would somehow see or stumble upon Him. However, life is probably protecting me from ending up getting arrested or something similar as I have no right to go anywhere near where He works. If I could ever even find it … I have no sense of direction and didn’t even look at the address until tonight which is a few days later … I went in the exact opposite direction of where He might have been … sort of funny if you are in the laughing kind of mood … which I am currently not. But I won’t lie and say that I didn’t get the “Warm Fuzzies” with the thought of being close, once I was close or feeling as if I were. It probably seems as if I am lying about not knowing where I was going as it seems as if it is obviously to Him or where I thought He might be … however … I never know what I am doing … or where I am going … half the time that I think I am going to a certain destination I never end up there. Energy just hits and I am moved and thoughts arise as to where I am headed but they are so very often wrong.
The Full Moon has arrived and the Happy Time is departing … will probably make for a rather shitty Dark Time to have both the Moon and Happiness fading out at the same time. This has been a very strange and short Happy period. I suppose there is kindness in having such sad news during a fairly good space of well being for it to come in. Steinbeck says this to his young son about death (T: for Thom his son M: for Me/Steinbeck):
T: Did Willy go to heaven? [Willy was the dog.]
M: I guess so.
T: I saw him in heaven. But where was God?
M: I don’t know.
T: Did you ever see God?
M: Oh! Yes—sometimes and often.
T: What’s he look like?
T: Do dogs go to heaven?
T: I guess the sky falls down on them.
M: That kind of describes it all right.
T: When are you going to die?
M: I don’t know — sometime.
M: Maybe or maybe in a long time.
T: When will you know?
(p. 367, Letters)
If you take a moment and really Listen to what is being shared … well it’s a very good Pointing.
It is quite strange once the Happy time starts to fade … it happens every month but it never stops being strange as all the excitement, mania and anxieties of the Happy Time fade out along with all the stories about what might or could or would happen … often in which nothing ever actually does and I sort of stand here a moment feeling rather foolish wondering how it could all seem so real and promising when actually nothing is going on at all, except a very overactive imagination. I do not see the world as it is or even close to how it is. I get glimpses like I am right now, but this will all be quickly covered over and forgotten.
It’s been registering very slowly that Harold has died. There are outbursts of sadness and many stories flood in of our time together. I really have not thought about many of these things in years. It seems so unfair to receive such Kindly vision after someone you love dies. I never really thought I could be friends with Harold if we weren’t in EOTS together because in so many ways we both needed a Guardian. We were not trustworthy on our own. We both made so many very poor choices in life without Guidance. One time Harold got the idea to shave his eyebrows … it just came out of seemingly no where … right before he was going to work during breakfast … I had to call Wayneji and Kayemomma for them to talk some sense into him because he wouldn’t listen to me, especially when his mind was made up and it was that morning. Needless to say through this small intervention he didn’t shave them … thank god, but little strange things like that, which happened on both our ends would come up and more often than one might think. I was just as off the wall, I just can’t think of an example at the moment, that’s the one that just showed up.
It is a strange evening … the Moon is Full … went out and Danced under it … first time in Months catching a Full one and it’s eerily quiet around this place tonight … as if deserted which makes for Dancing! 💃 No Red Dress though. I don’t own a Red Dress or any dress for that matter.
About the Moon Cycles:
THE LUNAR CYCLE
Awareness of the phases of the moon attunes us to the lunar cycle, and because la lune rules feminine energies and intuition, working with the moon can strengthen our natural instincts.
Not all of our activities follow such a short cycle, however choosing days to launch projects, start programs or plans can be timed with the moon to harness its benefits.
Why Work With The Moon’s Phases?
“Whether we move instinctively to the lunar rhythm, or must choose to synchronize ourselves with free will, if we want a broader support for our activities, it makes sense to keep Luna in mind. She offers temporal windows for beginnings and endings, and for everything in between. She is the consummate teacher of process.” Dana Gerhardt
1 First Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The New Moon
New Beginnings… Waxing Moon, Getting Bigger and Brighter
The start of the cycle, where it all begins.
This is the best time to acknowledge goals, write a to-do list and think about what you’d like to create. It’s a time to speculate on new projects, to clarify ones intent, or make initial contact. Bring ideas into consciousness but launch a little later – wait until the First Quarter to take action.
2 Second Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Crescent Moon
Getting Into The Swing Of Things… Waxing Moon, Getting Bigger and Brighter
During the two weeks of the waxing Moon, Luna’s light is increasing and she’s building her form.
Crescent Moon is the time to start projects and add actions to the intentions you made during the New Moon. Gather energies to help you on your way, bring new things, people and relationships into your life, energy is building.
3 Third Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The First Quarter
Making Strides… Waxing Moon, Getting Bigger and Brighter
This is a time to be ambitious!
Focus on really accelerating the progress of any projects you’re working on, picking up the pace sound in the knowledge of what you’re building and working towards. It is essential to make forward strides, really catch onto the abundant growing power of the moon and the momentum that’s underway.
4 Fourth Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Gibbous Moon
Last Push… Waxing Moon, Getting Bigger and Brighter
The Gibbous Moon occurs three days before the Full Moon, so we’re building up to the time of fruition and maximum energy. The moon will soon be at its peak so now is a time to be constructive, adding to what has been building for over a week.
5 Fifth Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Full Moon
Conclusion, Celebration! The Moon Is Biggest And Brightest In The Sky
The Full Moon is a time when we’re naturally accelerated, energy is flowing and things will naturally come to a head. Emotions are heightened now, too. It’s a great time to give thanks, for the things that have reached fullness, it’s a great time to consider that which we can now let go of…
Do: Use lovely ingredients on your body as skin and hair are more absorbent. Careful of products like bleach if you’re dying hair.
Full Moon Meditation: I am grateful for things I need to see that have come to light, to the projects that gave successfully come to fruition and for the momentum of the moon!
6 Sixth Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Disseminating Moon
The Party’s Over, Time To Go… Waning Moon, Decreasing, Reducing In Size
From Full Moon to New Moon, the Moon’s light is decreasing. She’s losing form. This is the time to let go, release, retire. Introspection is favored, internal themes.
Remove anything from your life that is no longer serving you. This might include the discarding of old habits, saying goodbye to toxic friendships, closing a business or leaving a relationship. It’s not usually considered the best time to start a project during this time, it’s more about tying up loose ends and filing things away. Post off packages!
7 Seventh Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Last Quarter
Rounding Down… Waning Moon, Decreasing, Reducing In Size
This is the second-to-last phase of the Moon, and during this time, you want to take those loose ends from the last cycle and really and truly finish up. During the time from the New Moon to now, you will have become aware of certain things in your life that could be released. The Last Quarter gives us fantastic energetic support release and break negative patterns.
8 Final Phase Of The Lunar Cycle – The Balsamic Moon / Dark Of The Moon
And Relax, Rest And Retreat… Waning Moon, Decreasing, Reducing In Size
The moon is in its Balsamic phase for the 72 hours before New Moon. During this time it’s in its ‘dark moon’ phase of the lunar cycle, and it’s a really good window to take time out to meditate, contemplate and completely wind down. Close off, really let go and go inward. This is the most introvert stage of the cycle and privacy is paramount as you clear your head before launch into the new cycle. It’s time to get ready for the next phase, the new moon when it starts all over again!
Do: Undertake practices that symbolically allow space to bring new things in – clean your house, spend some time alone. Schedule major operations, waxing or hair removal during the Balsamic Moon phase if you can, there will be less blood loss as it flows less freely and recuperation will be supported soon, by the waxing Moon.
Dark Moon Meditation: I am grateful for release from the things I no longer need, for the closing of situations and relationships that no longer serve me and for the power of the universe!
Star Sign Studies, Summary…
Biodynamic famers and gardeners grow in time with the lunar cycle, planting and fertilizing with the waxing Moon, cutting, weeding, and pruning during the waning Moon.
The waxing Moon energizes flowers and leaves that appear above ground, while the waning Moon nourishes the roots.
See if you can attune your activities to la lune, see if she supports growth and helps you go with the flow…
Sort of interesting if you are interested in that kind of thing. Have to learn the phases of the Moon.
Well, I think I caught the eclipse … I saw the moon turn reddish and then black and then it came back to reddish again. It is now reddish with grey … it is a slow process it’s been doing it for about a 1/2 hour now. Yep … now it is getting a tiny bit white again. I’ve never seen the Moon eclipsed only the sun.
Posted the following on FB:
Joy Sters shared Oregon Psilocybin Society's post. 35 mins · Ashland ·
Recently someone who was very close to me, passed away. We had been together for 7 years, 5 of which we were married and partook in the ingestion of both Magic Mushrooms and LSD which, although they did not heal all inflicted wounds, they offered a great Service to our friendship, marriage and the continuation of it throughout our years together, apart and now on into our deaths. Harold was what I would call a "Psychedelic Enthusiast" and was always looking for ways to introduce these substances to people who would not normally look in their direction. He opened quite a few minds during our time spent together and now maybe a few more will be opened in his death. The following is a clipping from the Article below, which is well worth reading especially if you are unfamiliar with psychedelics (i.e. Mushrooms/LSD) ... as it might ease some apprehension or dispel false beliefs in regard to what these substances are:
“It’s almost taboo in Western culture to talk about death,” says Dr. Bright. “And I think part of the problem that people in these studies are having is coming to grips with the idea of death because of the way it’s treated in society.
“[These patients’] significant others may not want to talk about it, and they may not want to bring it up. But after the psilocybin experience, I guess they feel a sense that there’s something else out there, and they’re more likely then to talk heart-to-heart and have that meaningful conversation.”
Woke up today and had no idea what day it is … kept trying to download the New Music Friday on Spotify and wondering why it would not load … except finally … hours later … the realization dawned :
It really was/is a strange realization. It didn’t even register fully even after seeing that it is so … this is how “right” one can feel when they are so very wrong.
“And always I feel that I am living in a dream and that I will awaken to something quite different. It’s very unreal but then everything always has been to me. Maybe I never saw anything real. That’s what Marge Bailey (one of his professors at Stanford) said about me once very long ago.” (p. 460, Steinbeck Letters)
For years, I would wake in a deep depression … for no other reason than for waking.
A depression is currently in the air. There is the strangest kind of sadness around Harold. You cannot wait. You can never wait. There is no time for waiting. The mind comes up with a million ways we could have been in one another’s life all these years but it lies. It is simply not so because it was not so. We were volatile. I became volatile towards him and could not shake it. If it could have been some other way it would have. You get tested. Often one doesn’t even see it while it is happening.
I could never write him a poem. Struggled always with love letters. It was so noticeable. I dreaded writing them and I have always been one for writing … especially love letters. In the very beginning they flew out of my finger tips in his direction, but it did not take long for the spirit of them to be crushed. Weale had a way of making you feel very small. It didn’t seem intentional, it was just his way, he barely paid you any mind. If someone or something caught his eye you were annihilated, completely wiped out and forgotten for whatever that new-next-best thing is.
Boy, am I getting the sense I am writing about myself and not him.
You begin to see through history … through retrospect that you do the same things over and over but you have no idea you are doing the same thing. I don’t see it right now that I am … but I am because I always have. It looks or appears different but it’s the same script. I used Harold as an outlet for this Love for Wayneji and I have done the same with "Him" … it’s projection but then it is also … in a sense … the same with Wayneji as I use him as a way to Love God (the intangible) … it is all projection … but Wayneji is the only one who is not romantic love … the mind thinks it cannot Love without the romantic aspect but it is very wrong and it knows it, but that doesn’t change how it is right now.
“There is no greater Love than the Love for one’s Teacher.”
Because … well there just isn’t. It is so because The Teacher is the closest one gets to God or their own Self (as other) in this world.
This is not the time for explanations …
they all seem like lies right now.
The truth is that I failed Harold and he failed me and we knew it. The Marriage failed because we killed it. We didn’t fan the flames of Love we dumped bucket after bucket of cold water on it and wondered why we were always so dirty and sinking in some mucky mess of mud.
But I loved him so much from a distance.
I still do. Even his death fascinates me and of course makes me jealous. I don’t know what would have happened with his life but I am very glad it didn’t go too far down the rabbit hole because one time I looked … in the very beginning of our relationship … I got a peak down the rabbit hole that is Weale and it was scarily deep. In fact I no longer recall if it was psychedelically induced and I don’t remember the details what I remember is that from then on I was weary of him. I knew there were places we could end up that I absolutely would not want to go. I no longer trusted him. It was huge but I didn’t see it as such at the time. I see how huge it was now … as if a grenade had been dropped and exploded in the midst of our relationship but it became a part of the scenery and everyone just walked around it.
Harold is one of the few characters in my writings that actually named himself. We were all at MU one night … Harold and myself and Wayneji and Kayemomma and maybe Wing and AngelKitty, I no longer recall but I am pretty sure AngelKitty was there, if we were she was … because she was always there when we were.
I often miss AngelKitty deeply.
She was one of the very few women friends that I can claim in this lifetime. I truly loved her and I truly treated her like shit … but I also was very good to her and gave her more of myself than I do most. Anyway we were all gathered around and I think the power had gone out and we were just hanging around the living room at MU and Wayneji took out a game where he asks you questions and you say the first thing that comes to mind and one of the card’s asked if you could be an animal what would you be and Harold said an “Alligator” but I no longer recall where the word Harold came from … I will write to Kayemomma and see if she remembers.
God I can’t believe Harold is dead.
There is no writers energy in my person but there is a push … an impetus to write which is very strange … as if one is the paradox, watching the opposing forces pulling in equal amounts in opposite directions.
Steinbeck just got Charlie … it’s 1952 … Travels with Charlie is the only book of his I have read so far although I am 1/2 through Letters now. He got him in Paris France and seems quite taken with him already. It’s a strange thing for me to read only because I have never had a relationship with a big dog such as Steinbeck goes on to have with Charlie. Wayneji’s “Charlie” was pretty much the biggest dog I’ve ever gotten close to and he wasn’t very big but he weighed a lot and I couldn’t pick him up. Wayneji’s Charlie was the first dog I ever loved. I had a dog “Pal” back when I was very young … under 7 years old that I vaguely remember loving … but Beaners/Charlie is the first dog I fully … no holding back … Loved. Pete however, is my first official dog … nearly from the beginning and heading on down the long stretch he is dragging out the end to be. I sometimes still get very frustrated even with the little bit of care-taking it requires to share a life with Pete, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat. He is basically kept comfortable and fed. He asks for very little and that is good because I have so little to give. However, there is an invisible current that runs between Pete and I that is unmistakably there. I love it. I love this experience of being so intimate with another creature. No one can touch it. No one can destroy it. It’s only between him and I. I have shared something with Pete that I have shared with only one other in this world and I can’t name it … I only know it.
It is a few hours past since the above was written … however I came across this conversation on EOTS in the EOTS Heart Folder while searching for a few things that you will read as you get further into this document … however this seems important to put in here right now. Especially since Charlie’s Birthday was on Monday, January 29th. The first photo I ever saw of Harold … is this one of him and Beaners at MU.
(Removed for Privacy)
Sent: Thursday, February 22, 2007 7:07:57 PM
Subject: [eots] My Dearest Joysters
Joy, this is a post that just begs to be private but since it shows a side of you that I want everyone to see I am sending this to the list.
------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------
Kaye just hung up the phone with you wherein you told her that when we got off the plane in San Francisco and you checked your voice mail you found out at that time that Charlie had died. You very wisely withheld this information from us knowing that the six hour drive home would have been hell for Kaye and I.
As we drove home I wondered if there was something wrong with you since you seemed distant and at times distraught. I passed it off as perhaps exhaustion. I recall one time singing a song that inserted a line in the song "Home, home on the range" where I sang, "Oh give me a home where Charlie can roam and Pete and Angel can play...". Looking back on that I can see where that must have caused you pain knowing what you knew.
As we walked in the door that night there was a phone call from you telling us of the sad news.
Perhaps some people would say that you should have told us right away but both Kaye and I are so grateful that you did not do so. I don't know if we could have survived the drive home in our right minds.
Thank you so much my dearest Joy for your love for Charlie and your deep sense of compassion for us.
Our deepest Love,
Wayne and Kaye
Wayneji … thank You so much for this writing. There is a dis-belief about what has happened … it is not real for me just yet … sometimes I see a bit of it and there is a wanting not to feel it however I don't know if that is it.
After speaking with you on the phone that night … Harold and I lit a candle and sat in meditation, when I got up there was this urge to type something out … I didn't know what I was doing it for, but I put it on the Hard Drive in a folder called "Charles/Charlie, Bean/Beaners and saved it. I didn't read it that night and it wasn't until I read what you said below that I went back and opened the document to see what was written … I read it out loud to Dan and he said that it would be good to send it in.
There were so many things that came up on the drive home it was not a situation that I knew how to be in … and yet I was in it.
Mostly there was the pull to Stillness … a Knowing that all is well even though everything was saying it wasn't as well as the dread of how you would be told and an honor that I would be letting you know.
I love you both so much myPapa myMama.
January 29, 1997 to February 20, 2007
The moment I heard the message on the phone from Doc Spencer, who said you had a massive coronary and that he tried to save you but couldn't and that you had died, there was an immediate hole that will not be filled. A void showed up and there was no attempt to do anything about it.
Somehow life is sort of kind in ways, we were all at the airport including your momma and poppa and somehow the tears didn't flow … they welled up but didn't flow. And the thoughts appeared not to say anything to your parents at the time … we had traveled so far from India to Germany and just arriving in the states … I didn't know whether it was right or wrong not to say anything … there was just this Silence as the thoughts attempted to figure out what would be said and when.
We, Wayneji, Kayemomma, AngelKitty, Harold, mySon and I, loaded up into the rental van and I didn't look at anyone … didn't speak to anyone unless necessary and the feeling was that if I looked at anyone I would just start crying … so I didn't. We got to a restaurant and all ate sandwiches … your mom wasn't feeling well she has a cold and your dad went to get cold medicine. I opened my mouth to tell Harold what had happened to you and as soon as I did all the tears came forth and Harold said:
And then mySon walked over and I told Harold I would tell him later. There was a feeling that mySon showing up was the perfect thing because it was becoming clearer that maybe the best time for Wayneji and Kayemomma to hear about what has happened to you would be when they have finally reached MU.
Your dad sang in the car about you when we were getting close to Yreka … it sounded like "home on the range" but he sang "Where Charlie and Pete and Angel can play" and then again the tears welled up.
I hugged your mom and did cry when I said goodbye to her and they both got in the car and headed back home to MU. I began watching the clock so that I could call as soon as they got home and tell them. At about 8:20pm I went upstairs with Harold and told him and started bawling. He held me for a bit and then I realized I didn't have a phone to call Wayneji and Kayemomma with so I ran downstairs to get it but all of our stuff was turned off from being away for all these weeks.
I ended up using Harold's cell phone and Wayneji answered the phone and immediately handed it to Kayemomma. I told her that Dr. Spencer had left a message and I could already tell she knew it wasn't something good. I told her you were gone and she screamed, and it hurt so much to hear her … it hurt all day knowing that this moment was going to come … however it was still a shock to hear that kind of pain. She handed the phone to your Dad and his voice was trembling … he asked what happened and I told him what I knew and he said he would be in touch and hung up.
I crawled into Harold's arms and sobbed again. Then AngelKitty called and we talked for a few short minutes but you know Bean what can one say … all the times with you just keep flashing. I want to just hold your parents so I am in however way that is.
They said they are going to pick up your body tomorrow morning and I know they will have a ceremony for you … I don't know if I will be invited however I am already there with you. My whole life with you was at MU and it always will be. The only memories I have of you outside of MU are the few times we went to Medford for your haircut …which goddammit I wish now I didn't stop taking you. I remember you coming here too … you didn't like the hardwood floors and you weren't comfortable here but you did good.
I know you know you are the first dog that I really bonded with and loved … you know I love Pete because of you … because you showed me how … not by doing things … but just because I love you so much … cause you loved me … maybe not in the way the world describes love but you accepted me and took care of me when I couldn't or wouldn't. MyBeaners I am going to miss you so much and yet right now it really hasn't sunk in that you are gone. Right now you are still waiting to get picked up and go to MU. How can I not see you at MU … you are MU. There is this ache in my chest and none of the reasons that thoughts say it is there connect with the ache. MyBean. I love you so much.
Harold and I lit a candle for you and placed my first picture that Wayne ever gave me of Himself with you sitting on his lap on the swing in the backyard of MU … he didn't actually give it too me … he threw it out and I picked it out of the trash and asked if I could have it and he said yes so I put it in a frame and have had it ever since and that was about 6 years ago. We sat quietly for a bit and all the memories of me and you at MU came flooding in. I thought while it is all fresh with me right now I would write it down.
I know this will not be easy on any of us … especially your Mom and Dad. I know that I will see you at MU … everywhere and I know that Pete will be looking for you … I know that he so much enjoyed his time playing with you and you growling at him and humping on him … I know he didn't mind and we all got such joy in watching you two play together.
So I will just ask that you take a pause here.
For anyone you maybe Grieving for in life.
There is such a love in my person for words … even though they have also created so much of the insanity and madness in the mind. In the mind they seem to mean something … however … here out on the screen … or in this document … they are just a story. In the mind the story seems so real, but here on the screen not so much or at all and so it makes for such Joy in writing. Writing takes the power away from words. It does here anyway. However, reading the words often imbues a kind of power … sort of as if it is taken from the Writer and then the energy sort of waits dormantly until it is read. Then the energy leaps off the page or document and imbues the Reader.
I actually had gone looking for an email on “Service” as Wayneji once suggested I read some … but instead stumbled upon this and I wonder … maybe … just maybe that the Writing that comes through my person is “Service.”
-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Sharing HaroldTheAlligator.
Date: Sat, 25 Mar 2006 09:13:12 -0800
This morning I went upstairs and Harold was on the phone so I snaggled up next to him laying in his arm as he talked with his mom for awhile...it was so nice to hear his voice flow so evenly...to listen to him talk without having to have any input of my own just to listen to the flow of him speaking...then his dad got on the phone and I listen as he told his dad about his coaching baseball and then listened as his father asked Harold to hold on while he yelled at some squirrels that had been causing some trouble and then get back on the line and Harold continues on sharing with his father about baseball and home life and Yreka and I keep hearing inside of me "i love you so much" I just keep feeling how much I love Harold and I hear his dad talking about Basketball and then Harold starts talking about when he was ourSon's age and how before it was too cool to like things like going to Lake George that it was one of the best things he could remember and how he wants to take ourSon and me there and then his Dad says he should get going and Harold says "I love you dad" and I love the way he says it ... I love hearing him say it.
He gets off the phone and its like seeing Harold for the first time...like seeing a different Harold ... a Harold that's been here all along but I just hadn't seen him here and though he is looking at me like nothing is different...something is especially brighter in me right now.
It hadn't all come together like it is now...so he then calls his grandma who is 86 years old and he had forgotten to thank for her Christmas Card...and for some reason I had sort of expected him to be trying to get off the phone...but I was so pleasantly surprised to hear him enjoying the conversation and really interested in what his Grandmother was saying and I was again laying there listening myself interested in what his Grandmother was sharing about how she still golfs and although she doesn't garden like she used to she still plans on planting a few things and there were just warm fuzzies all about. His Grandma asked Harold if ourSon was like a step-son and Harold asked me and we told her that since ourSon isn't yet adopted that by law it's a step-son but then Harold went on to say, I call him my son.
mySon kept interrupting me while I was typing this so I went and got the Snowboarding Story I typed you guys last month or so and he is sitting next to me laughing and giggling away and I have tears coming out of my eyes that I am so filled with Joy right now. This is a Yummers Moment. Thank You.
After reading that I went searching for the Snowboarding writing … it’s probably one of the first inklings that I would become a Writer or that I was a Writer … the first was when I was 19 … I started writing a novel … I only showed it to a few people but they showed some interest however, for whatever reason or none … I lost interest in writing it. However this following writing was many, many moons later but it was a first attempt at StoryTelling and keeping the reader actively involved. I haven’t seen it in years … probably almost ten … but I have looked for it on a few occasions and was not able to find it until just now. I did a slight bit of editing for punctuation and grammar but have not altered the story at all only for visual effects … I still like it:
An American Family
Tales of Snowboarding
January 28, 2006
It's a lazy morning here in Yreka. Last night I had some caffeine at the Ski Lodge and it seems to make me stay alert even though I am physically tired which isn't a fun mix … it feels all restless. Yesterday afternoon I got so tired just out of the blue so I laid down on the LoveSac and fell into the most relaxing position that wasn't quite asleep but also wasn't all the way awake and the body felt like Jell-O or squishy stuff and Harold came home for lunch and I just couldn't move or get up it was so comfortable that there was drool running out of my mouth. Later, when I got up to start getting ready for Snowboarding there was a very lax body movement in doing so … however the thoughts that were going through were ones of hope that the snowboarding trip would be cancelled … however it wasn't and off we went.
On the bus ride to Mt. Shasta (which is about an hour) mySon and I usually sit quietly … which is not like the rest of the bus. We don't plan to sit quietly in fact I find myself surprised that he sits on the bus with me each time. Sometimes he lays his head on my shoulder and just rests his eyes with me. I would say the bus ride is my favorite part so far … even though there are about 30 pre-teens screaming on it for 2 hours, I find that I am surprised at how little I hear … like it's almost background music when riding an elevator.
So we get to Mt. Shasta and as we are walking up to the Ski Lodge the body feels sooooo tired and I mention it to mySon and he is like yeah me too … but we get our rented gear and put it all on and hurry over to our lesson. The bunny hill where we have the lesson is on an incline that isn't too great, but enough and it runs about 200 yards … they have this rope pulley thing that can take you up the hill if you like and last time I tried it I fell 2x and ended up walking up the hill the rest of the night.
So last night I gave it another shot hoping that I wouldn't have to walk the incline the whole night. Me, and the two trainers, go over to the pulley (which is usually surrounded by a bunch of people waiting to go up) and they are sharing with me how to set myself up to get on and to stay straight up the incline without falling … at one point I didn't understand what he said and I said to him:
"I don't speak English that is why I don't understand what you are saying!”
And he laughed and said he was speaking Swahili or something and then I said that I once had a dream where I spoke an African language but when I woke up I didn't know what I had said. He thought that was pretty cool and I was feeling all pumped up and we get to the rope and he shows me how to line up my feet and the other trainer hands me the rope and it's all set up so perfect and then the rope is in my hands and it pulls me forward and my board goes down and my leg twist under and the trainer is yelling:
“Let go of the rope!”
And I do, but I'm mangled and the other trainer is yelling:
“Get out of the way! Put your head down!”
As the plastic piece of the pulley rope is coming to hit me in the head, but I can't see, because I am twisted and I can't move because my legs hurt and I throw myself over to the side and they ask if I want to try again???
(I don't try again.)
Then they go on to tell me that once I master the bunny slope (Ha! Master the bunny slope!) I won't ever have to go on that rope thing again.
So now I am sore and disinterested and pissy and I still have to walk up the incline. The thoughts going through are ones of a spoiled brat and I am the only adult being trained how to snowboard with a group of about nine children from mySon's school (including mySon) all around the age of 11. They have us do our first run down the hill … some of us do real good …
mySon is one of them!
He just looks like he knows what he is doing and he is not afraid to do it. However, then there are a few of us, myself included … that seem like we all have ADD and continue to get heckles in our direction that we look like disco dancers; not snowboarders.
The next time we get up the incline...the "pros (mySon's gang) go down first with ease and the instructors stay behind with “us.” Now, I may sound like we have crappy instructors however, we don’t … they are really good and really patient and keep telling us the same thing over and over again … but as I was sitting there watching his mouth move … it was as if he were speaking another language! I swear … I couldn't understand anything that he was saying … all the words sounded like words I had heard before, but I couldn't put them together to make a sentence that made any sense and I was both embarrassed and scared because I knew I was going to go down that hill again without a clue what I was doing because:
I didn't understand a thing!
And … I was becoming frustrated. I stood up and after watching a few others who also didn't seem to understand a thing and watched as they go down the hill, fall and stumble. So did I … and I fell and it hurt and I yelled out:
“I suck at this!”
And the instructor says:
“No you don’t!”
And I yell out:
“It's not nice to lie!”
As I struggle to get up with every part of this body feeling as if it were lead and my head is saying we are quitting!
No more snowboarding! We can't learn this stuff! We are too old!
Meanwhile I am about 30 feet from my group of 11 year old compadres, trapped in my snowboard because I had worked up such a frenzy about the ordeal that I couldn't seem to unhook the snowboard from my feet, which was now infuriating me even more and you can't do anything like kick the board because your legs are locked into it so you just squirm around and look like an idiot! The instructors finally came along and ask if I am stuck and I say yes and I think they sense that I'm a spoiled brat and say:
“Can you hear us from there?”
And I reply:
So they left me there and finally I calmed down enough to unlatch the snowboard and crawl over to everyone else. Meanwhile … I don't (luckily) think mySon has noticed how much I am beginning to hate snowboarding because he is beginning to:
Love it so much!
The Instructors at this point decide to spilt the group in two and mySon is saying:
“I don't want to separate from you mom.”
Which tells me exactly what the instructors are planning to do and I say to mySon that I am just not as good as him. MySon is the first one picked for the other team along with 4 others and the other 5 of us stay behind to:
“Master the bunny slope!”
Already I am thinking … I can just walk off this freaking slope and go and have some coffee and sit in the lounge with the rest of the parents and play video games on my cell phone!
But my legs don't hear me and we are headed back up the slope.
The instructor again explains to us what we must do to get the board to stay slow and go back and forth down the hill like a falling leaf. It sounds so graceful but I am everything but that. Everyone goes down the hill. I wait till last. As soon as I get going there is the beginnings of a falling leaf and I keep saying (out loud):
“Please don't go fast … please don't go fast!”
However my leaf turns into a massive brick and I crash and burn (again) and am disgusted and yell out:
And I immediately (which I already had been feeling like a jerk) feel like an even bigger jerk for saying I am a quitter in front of all these kids who are trying to learn how to snowboard along with this grown up baby that's throwing a tantrum! The instructor comes over to and says:
“If you've made your mind up I'm not going to try and talk you out of it, but I will go up with you if you're willing and I will help you step by step get down the hill.”
So I let the burn; burn and reply that I will and I walk up the hill again and he meets me up there and he holds my hands and shows me how to steer the board … and it hurts!
He keeps telling me lift my toes! Pull up! Lift the toes! I am lifting my toes up so damn high they are freaking broken and everything hurts! I put my heels down, press down … down … down! And the board slows down and stops and I can barely believe it! I’m in pain, but the fucking board has stopped and we are standing there 1/2 way down the slope! The instructor shows me how to ease up and I do, and the board goes down the hill a tiny bit and then I pull up on my breaking toes and the board stops! We are finally at the bottom and maybe …. just maybe:
I've got it!
Now, back up the hill I go for our last run with the instructor for the night. I have no idea how these legs made it up there. I am freezing and sweating at the same time, but I am feeling that I am not a quitter right now! I'm feeling like I might not hate snowboarding, but that I hate that I can't just know how to do things … that I probably quit things because I can't deal with frustration and embarrassment and I don't have patience for myself to hang in there and do it again and again! But this time is different … this time I am still here … I'm not inside drinking coffee and playing video games (yet).
I do the run on the hill again and I don't fall.
I do however tap/bump into the instructors snowboard as he is saying:
"Watch out for my snowboard!”
And then I fell! Heh. :o)))) He tells us we have all done much better and that next time we probably will get to go on the ski lift! Oh boy oh boy! One of the girls picks up some snow and hits him with a snowball. He is shocked. He's not very old, only about twenty or so but still it surprises him. So then I hit him with a snowball, which surprises me and then I thank him for pushing me so hard to keep going. We all spilt up and I go find Tyler, which I spent about 30 minutes doing before I just finally gave up and went and got that Coffee and played those video games in the lodge on my cell phone until he found me.
He was so excited!
He went up the ski lift and down the slope 2x after he had left us and he said it was awesome. We ate pizza together and he begged me to go down the bunny slope with him again. I must be a gluten because …
Discouraged I got out of my gear and into my regular clothes and I sat in the rental shack and waited for mySon because he went back up the ski lift.
Finally, we were back on the bus heading home and the caffeine had kicked in and the body was sore, but as long as I wasn't moving it was fine and mySon had his head on my shoulder and we rested all the way back. We arrived to a sleeping Harold and to a nice warm fire heated home and we stripped off the wet clothes and hopped into our beds and I am so grateful that we have next week off! :o)))))
I actually found the story attached to a very nice email conversation between myself and TheCEO. I thought of him this year as I do every Christmas since that is his Birthday … he is the only person I know with a Birthday on Christmas.
Maybe next week will start a new series in Writing as A LIFE LESS WRITTEN seems less and less true. The following is some advice that Steinbeck gives his step-daughter Waverly about marriage that seems worth putting in here:
My questions are simple and terrible. They are not personal and they don’t have to do with Jim (her boyfriend). Therefore, you can show this letter to him if you wish or if you think well:
Interesting to look at.
A very strange thing has happened and it may be in regard to sitting on my head, looking directly into the Full Moon … Dancing under it or all of it … can’t really say but there is now this Electric looking zig-zagged line of Brilliant Light entwined with electric colors such as Electric Blue, Green and Pink. It is vibrating in my right eye. Not the left. It sort of looks like Pink Floyd’s Diamond/Triangle only it is in a zig-zag line and it is vibrating very quickly and has been doing so for the last ten minutes and does not seem to be stopping.
It’s gone now but went on for a full half hour. :o)
“A good writer always writes scared.”
-Steinbeck (p.526 Letters)
MySon reached out!
I had sent him a few short messages when I first heard about Harold and then let him be … he messaged back yesterday and asked if I had any photos of Harold … so I started going through them … photos are such a small aspect of our lives … they take a very small window of time and make it look so much larger. I’m not sure what I am attempting to say … I suppose the photos paint a very one-sided picture … usually of the good moments … you don’t often take photos of the bad ones or the more emotionally charged ones … you usually take photos when you are smiling and having a good time and so it makes for an album of happiness … and I suppose that is what one would want to be left with … the good stuff. Well here is the good stuff we shared:
(Removed for Privacy)
I mentioned AngelKitty yesterday and came across this one of her, Harold and I … if you look at AngelKitty and my hands … it says more about “us” than any story I could write.
(Removed for Privacy)
Here is a nice one of Harold and I in India:
(Removed for Privacy)
I no longer think you can imagine what it will be like if someone will die … you never will and when it happens it’s never like you could have imagined. He doesn’t feel gone at all and yet there is an ache in my chest. You really have to learn the hard way to let people in and let them stay … and it’s not that I ever kicked Harold out of me … but he has been in a remote place in my person for a long time … too long … may I never put someone I love in this place/space again … that somehow the guard will go down enough that I can see them always … not just when it doesn’t hurt. That the hurts held onto can be let go of. I so wish I could have let go of the hurt before he died.
What a fucking life we had!
All of it. It was so crazy and messy and good and hard and easy and full … it was never not full. It was a very full life. Too full sometimes. I have told myself a lot of stories about Harold … maybe to protect my own heart … I don’t know what the excuse … geezus.
I lost two of myBoys this year. Oh god you see things so differently. I am sick of saying it but you do. All the things that seemed so major seem like nothing … like wind! But sometimes you can’t get back or go back or are even wanted back … just because I now “think” that I could have somehow been in Harold's life … who’s to say he would have even wanted me there. It wasn’t like he was begging me to stay. Oh god it’s all so strange. I always knew how rare he was … is … there are not any … not that I have met … like Harold.
God you can hold on to so much garbage bullshit
For whatever reason … this keeps calling out to me:
“A good writer always writes scared.”
-Steinbeck (p.526 Letters)
A LIFE LESS WRITTEN
Joy A. Sters
January 22, 2018
Woke up with thoughts of Weale, which is a first. It still doesn’t seem real, probably a blessing. It’s the same thing about “Him.” Both are ghosts. They vaguely show up and then disappear and show up and disappear. Weaving in and out of what I call “my life,” weaving a web; a ghostly one, not an actual presence; just the sense of one. The last five years of this life have been nothing but ghosts.
The following was started back in September of last year and has been pecked at over the last few months in incremental writing spurts but was finally finished tonight:
WRITING PRACTICE/DISCIPLINE #46
Joy A. Sters
Title: IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO COME
BACK TO WHO?
Part: 1B (3 PAGES EDITED)
Date Started: September 29, 2017
Time Started: 2:03am
Edited: January 22, 2017
No matter what; it is always going to come back to “Who?” No matter what you have read, learned, taught, believed, lived … it is always going to come back to:
Who has done it? This is the most important to See, because the mind is always going to answer:
And it is up to the one that sees that thought, whether to either accept it or see through it. It doesn’t matter if you tire of the question, avoid the question, don’t believe the answer, run from the answer, attempt to hide or distract yourself from the answer, it is always going to come back to:
“Who” is it happening to?
You are not going to escape this; that you would even want to is the funny joke. The Cosmic Joke. It is what you are searching for in everything and yet run from at the first sign of discovery. You run from it by looking for a distraction. You run from it by searching for tangible answers. You run from it in attempts at making a “better” ego. Never looking to see “who” is doing all of this? You just blindly continue along with:
However, it doesn’t change the fact, the absolute fact, that there is no:
You are not capable of doing anything. Who you “think” you are is not capable of doing anything, because a “thought” isn’t real and has no power to act. It doesn’t matter how many times you avoid this, it still remains the same and is always waiting to be re-discovered. Every time you re-discover it; it comes alive in you.
It is re-awakened in you.
Once you have a firm commitment to Truth, “who?” shows up with greater frequency. When you start to go crazy or enraged, if you are lucky it will show up … like a breeze or a wind in the air of calamity:
And you will begin to see that you are following a story over the Truth. You won’t always want to give up the story, but you will see what you are doing.
Is the tool of Emptiness; which opens one to Stillness.
Is the only True Answer; all other answers are lies, distractions from what is True. It requires no belief. It is not a theory, concept or idea. It is only a theory, concept or idea when one hasn’t directly discovered it. It is only a theory, concept, belief or idea, when one only reads about it, such as you are doing now and does not go on to discover it for themselves.
There is no in-between.
You either investigate or you don’t. One leads to Truth and the latter to lies. In the beginning, the ego hears “Who?” as a preverbal slap across the face. Immediately it stakes the only claim of truth it has with the phrase:
This phrase is so deeply ingrained in one’s person that it is rarely, if ever questioned. Even after years of interrogation you will be surprised to find that it still remains as the same accepted answer. It is heard and accepted as true even after years of investigating:
“The Lie of the I.”
Which is why you are reading this now, because you have seen through the Lie and yet still accept the answer:
It is still accepted as a valid response to an unanswerable question. However, it is not valid, yet serves one well if used as a trigger. It can be maddening how often the trigger is overlooked, yet if you just stop, when you do see, those stoppings are enough to start placing large amounts of Space between you and thought. You won’t see this right away. It will be, possibly after years of vigilance, that one begins to see with enough Space that it is a lie. Then, even when there is acceptance of the thought “I do,” there is enough space there that one “Knows” that it is not so. Knows without doubt that one is not the thought:
Anything that starts with “I” or ends in “I” is simply not true. Slowly but surely, as doubt in the “I” ensues, dependency on all thought begins to lessen. You start to find that you don’t really give much credence to what you once claimed as your own thoughts or anyone else’s. The mind starts to naturally drop down and away, because it has nothing to offer or contribute and even when it “thinks” it does there is Space enough to accept or reject whatever thought appears:
The best practice for this comes when you are not distraught and caught up in emotional windstorms. Just close the eyes and ask:
To whom do these thoughts come? Who Sees the thought … “Who?” Who is aware of the stories running through the mind? Who claims them as their own? And do not accept the thought “I” as a valid answer. Just simply see it as not true. Don’t try to accept or reject it, just see through it as you would any liar that comes to your doorstep. You know when someone else is lying, but you almost never see the one’s you accept as your own.
All thoughts are lies.
You are aware of it. You acknowledge it as true, but rarely do you see it. Become Committed with a capital “C” to knowing that the “I” is a lie, not even a liar, because even in that one gives validity to what is not true.
“I” is simply a lie; simply unTrue.
This is what you become Committed to Knowing. This is what becomes one’s True Life’s Work. Keep the head bowed to Emptiness. When the head is currently raised, it is raised to the allegiance to the lie. When it is bowed, it is in submission to the Truth. The Truth of who you Truly Are. When the head bows, it bows to itSelf:
To One’s True Nature.
You will not escape this question, not this lifetime, this very Lucky Lifetime. Namaste.
Here it is whittled down to one page:
WRITING PRACTICE/DISCIPLINE #46
Joy A. Sters
Title: IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO BOIL
DOWN TO WHO?
Part: 1a (1 PAGE EDITED)
Date Started: September 29, 2017
Time Started: 2:03am
Finished: January 22, 2017
No matter what; it is always going to come back to “Who?” No matter what you have read, learned, taught, believed, lived … it is always going to come back to:
Who has done it? This is the most important to See, because the mind is always going to answer:
And it is up to the one that sees that thought, whether to either accept it or see through it. It doesn’t matter if you tire of the question, avoid the question, don’t believe the answer, run from the answer, attempt to hide or distract yourself from the answer, it is always going to come back to:
“Who” is it happening to?
You are not going to escape this; that you would even is The Cosmic Joke. It is what you are searching for in everything and yet run from at the first sign of discovery. You run from it by looking for a distraction. You run from it by searching for tangible answers. You run from it in attempts at making a “better” ego. Never looking to see “who” is doing all of this? You just blindly continue along with the thought; “I do.” However, it doesn’t change the fact, the absolute fact, that there is no “I.” You are not capable of doing anything. Who you “think” you are is not capable of doing anything, because a “thought” isn’t real and has no power to act. It doesn’t matter how many times you avoid this, it still remains the same and is always waiting to be re-discovered. Every time you re-discover it; it comes alive in you. It is re-awakened in you.
Become Committed with a capital “C” to knowing that the “I” is a lie. Become Committed to Knowing that is True and as you do it becomes one’s True Life’s Work. Keep the head bowed to Emptiness. When the head is currently raised, it is raised to the allegiance to the lie. When it is bowed, it is in submission to the Truth. The Truth of who you Truly Are. When the head bows, it bows to itSelf, to One’s True Nature. You will not escape this question, not this lifetime, this very Lucky Lifetime. Namaste.
Here it is whittled down to one sentence:
WRITING PRACTICE/DISCIPLINE #46
Joy A. Sters
Title: IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO COME
BACK TO WHO?
Part: 1a (1 SENTENCE EDITED)
Date Started: September 29, 2017
Time Started: 2:03am
Finished: January 22, 2017
No matter what you have read, learned, taught, believed, lived … it is always going to come back to “Who?” who has done it?
It’s been a few daze and am just now reading on STEINBECK: A LIFE IN LETTERS … which I’ve been reading on sort like sipping on a cup of coffee for the last month or so while being immersed in ANNE SEXTON’s bio … but now am getting fully sucked in.
He is so different in so many ways from ANNE but very similar as well … he just processes life differently but some of the foundation of their life seems very similar … however, he is very calm and she was very animated. He drinks people in and then can write about people so very well or at least it seems … she more or less could only write of herself as that is all she knew … but she knew herself well.
I have only read TRAVELS WITH CHARLIE so far but am thinking I will pick up OF MICE AND MEN soon … not sure … I have already seen the movie but imagine the book is very different. I loved the movie. Of course John is another author that WAYNEJI turned me on to.
I am going to write all of letter in because I just read it and it has come up to repeat here. It is a description of a girl from MICE AND MEN that he is explaining to an actress who is going to play her on the stage version and wants to know more about the character but the character sounds so much like my character and maybe most women in general that it seems worth repeating here … most women I meet are this guarded … in fact I just had a conversation with a woman like this just the other day … she connected with me over Weale’s Death … we had all been very close at one time as close as our cemented over hearts would allow and at the end of the conversation she cut off all ties with me (again) because I wouldn’t promise that I wouldn’t share what she shares with me … with Wayneji … I said I could promise that I would let her know if I did but that I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t do it and this made her mad but not for the reasons she claims which is that it is a break in trust and confidentiality because we always shared everything with Wayneji and nothing ever happened to her because of it her fears have nothing to do with me or Wayneji. The things that came about for our sharing were not anything we wouldn’t have desperately wanted. In many ways I think she said it just to get me to do it … to have the Light of Wayneji shone in her direction … but as of right now nothing has come of any of it … at least not to the naked eye.
So here is the writing … I sort of wish I had the Kindle version because it is a bit long but I bought a used printed copy … a very old one that smells delicious. I stick my nose in it quite often and now know why people say:
“Get your nose out of that book!”
Because they smell so good. It is rather sad that dead trees smell good. Live ones smell best. Ok here we go:
Los Gatos, 1938
Dear Miss Luce:
Annie Laurie says you are worried about your playing of the part of Curley’s wife although from the reviews it appears that you are playing it marvelously. I am deeply grateful to you and to the others in the cast for your feeling about the play. You have surely made it much more than it was by such a feeling.
About the girl—I don’t know of course what you think about her, but perhaps if I should tell you a little about her as I know her, it might clear your feeling about her.
She grew up in an atmosphere of fighting and suspicion. Quite early she learned that she must never trust any one but she was never able to carry out what she learned. A natural trustfulness broke through constantly and every time it did, she got hurt. Her moral training was most rigid. She was told over and over that she must remain a virgin because that was the only way she could get a husband. This was harped on so often that it became a fixation. It would have been impossible to seduce her. She had only that one thing to sell and she knew it.
Now, she was trained by threat not only at home but by other kids. And any show of fear or weakness Brough an instant persecution. She learned she had to be hard to cover her fright. And automatically she became hardest when she was most frightened. She is a nice, kind girl and not a floozy. No man has ever considered her as anything except a girl to try to make. She has never talked to a man except in a sexual fencing conversation. She is not highly sexed particularly, but knows instinctively that if she is to be noticed at all, it will be because someone finds her sexually desirable.
As to her actual sexual life—she has had none except with Curley and there has probably been no consummation there since Curley would not consider her gratification and would probably be suspicious if she had any. Consequently she is a little starved. She knows utterly nothing about sex except the mass of misinformation girls tell one another. If anyone—a man or a woman—ever gave her a break—treated her like a person—she would be a slave to that person. Her craving for contact is immense but she, with her background, is incapable of conceiving any contact without some sexual context. With all of this—if you knew her, if you could ever break down the thousand little defenses she has built up, you would find a nice person, an honest person, and you would end up by loving her. But such a thing can never happen.
I hope you won’t think I’m preaching. I’ve known this girl and I’m just trying to tell you what she is like. She is afraid of everyone in the world. You’ve known girls like that, haven’t you? You can see them in Central Park on a hot night. They travel in groups for protection. They pretend to be wise and hard and voluptuous.
I have a feeling that you know all of this and that you are doing all of this. Please forgive me if I seem to intrude on your job. I don’t intend to and I am only writing this because Annie Laurie said you wondered about the girl. It’s a devil of a hard part. I am very happy that you have it.
~John Steinbeck (p. 154-155, Life in Letters)
It’s not that the story is the exact match with my life, Rebz life or this woman he writes above … but it is like most humans, isn’t it? The stories are different; the end result the same. Most humans are not very trusting, want to be, but aren’t. It’s not even gender specific. We are all so guarded; even when we think the guard is down. But life is a funny and miraculous thing and opens us when we least expect it.
Another quote from JOHN, it is such a good book on being a Writer … especially when you Know, but don’t know you are one. Sort of like Heart and mind. The Heart Knows; the mind is clueless:
“I’ve been writing on the novel (about vigilantes) but I’ve had to destroy it several times.” He wrote Elizabeth Otis shortly afterwards. “I don’t seem to know any more about writing a novel than I did ten years ago. You’d think I would learn. I suppose I could dash it off, but I want this one to be a pretty good one. There’s another difficulty too. I’m trying to write history while it is happening and I don’t want to be wrong.” (p. 162)
If you ever read this book … read that letter about what LIFE magazine did or actually didn’t do … there are always so many fuct up things that happen in life. But also you never really see the whole picture and since everything unfolds perfectly there are really no bad guys, but it sure can seem like it. Anyway I put that paragraph in because one time a History teacher at SOU asked me what I was going to write about in regard to History and I was surprised to hear myself say:
I am writing History right now!
I am in history and writing about it right now. However there also had been the idea at the time to write about Psychedelics and Spiritual Teachers in the 20th Century. However, since that time … I have seen that so much has already been written it’s rather pointless. Yet I still write!
JOHN comes through as such a Classy Man.
It’s been a few daze … but you don’t know that unless I tell you … because I have stopped using dates … for the most part. Not for any particular reason … it used to be because it felt as if these writings are stalked … as if there are eyes/I’s peering in on it … but that has subsided and the dates haven’t come back. So it’s been a few daze and tonight am once again reading on STEINBECK and am just so impressed with him as a man … as a human … as a fellow writer … even though I am not nearly his league I am still in The Calling.
Reading him makes for the realization that I have been raised in a very different generation … I hear it in the way he is able to stand his ground and in a sense has a firm foundation in what he Sees or how he Sees something coming into fruition. Well, let me let his words say it to you and then you can assess if it comes through that way for you:
“One other thing—I am not writing a satisfying story. I‘ve done my damndest to rip a reader’s nerves to rags, I don’t want him satisfied. And still one more thing—I tried to write this book the way lives are being lived not the way books are written.” (p. 179, Letters)
He is speaking about GRAPES OF WRATH which I have not read but have seen the movie and sort of wish I hadn’t. Hopefully there will be time in this life to finally get to read this work. There are so few people like him anymore. Not stubborn people … there are tons of them … that is not what I am talking about … I am talking about people who have Vision and are not willing to compromise. The world I currently live in is built on people that will compromise what they “think” they believe in … at a drop of a dime. But this is also the big difference … for STEINBECK … it is not a belief … it is his Character … it is the make of of his Character … it wouldn’t be the compromise of an idea but of himself.
Unrelated to the above … he also knows his work so well … his intention … what he attempts to get across to the reader:
“I know that books lead to a strong deep climax. This one doesn’t except by implication and the reader must bring the implication to it. If he doesn’t, it wasn’t a book for him to read. Throughout I’ve tried to make the reader participate in the actuality, what he takes from it will be scaled entirely on his own depth or hollowness. There are five layers in this book, a reader will find as many as he can and he won’t find more than he has in himself.” (p. 178-179)
Thoughts of Him have still had me going a bit mad, loopy, looney. It’s the Happy Time … although starting to fade … so it is to be expected. There was a bit of snow also this morning, which of course, is a reminder of Him, though I no longer remember how these two things linked … Him and Snow? But they have … they have linked together in the mind’s eye and today when it started to snow … the Joy of first seeing it was torn in half … there was still some of the Joy of seeing the First Flakes but a sadness was also upon my Heart … it felt Heavy and lessened the want to go outside and play in it. In fact it was so Heavy I wondered if it had actually made the snow stop or if He had Heard it and stopped it Himself. Because it stopped. It looked as if it were going to be a big ole storm and then it just trickled down to nothing and the sun came out and then it rained on and off the rest of the day.
“The dead sleep with their eyes open my grandfather would say. They are watching you from the past.”
-President Frank Underwood
(House of Cards)
“You know people, you know them for years and then suddenly they are like strangers in your own kitchen. Familiar can turn foreign on a dime.”
(House of Cards)
“Oh, let it go. It’s done.”
-Former President Underwood
(House of Cards)
Genius. In so many ways this show is Genius. Thank you DAVE CHAPPELLE for turning me on to it. I think SPACEY did most of the writing, acting, directing as well? Some of the scenes are so very well done and visually, cinematically, the actors! OMG it is so good! So very good.
I used to think that Netflix only created crap shows but they have won me over since OITNB, THE CROWN and now HOUSE OF CARDS … each one has really just been mind opening and at times blowing and some of them that I have seen could stand alone as motion picture. I have seen some episodes of THE CROWN that I thought could have been Movies for the big screen they were done so well.
I don’t know anything about Kevin Spacey’s personal life … but he is a fucking GENIUS of an Actor. I am not saying he doesn’t have some things in his past he needs to correct … but isn’t ruining his career just making two wrongs? Wouldn’t it be more helpful to have the two or however many people are involved work it out. I don’t mean with monetary reward either … I mean really clearing the air out. Going to the person(s) you have caused trauma/drama too and working it out somehow to make amends? Destroying two lives does make sense, does not serve anyone.
SPACEY has done for me what no one has done since JAMES GANDOLFINI in THE SOPRANOS … he has made me Love the Bad Guy.
Just found out “Dan” in Spanish means “Give.”
“The Vacuum can only be a Vacuum; when there is nothing there.”
-Wayneji (June 5, 2003)
Human is a very strange creature. It does some very strange things … hence the WRITING PRACTICE:
DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ANYTHING THE EGO DOES.
John Steinbeck seems to really have been tested in this regard:
Many years later he wrote to his friend Chase Horton:
“Let me tell you a story. When The Grapes of Wrath got loose, a lot of people were pretty mad at me. The undersheriff of Santa Clara County was a friend of mine and he told me as follows—‘Don’t you go into any hotel room alone. Keep records of every minute and when you are off the ranch travel with one or two friends but particularly, don’t stay in a hotel alone.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. He said, ‘Maybe I’m sticking my neck out but the boys got a rape case set up for you. You get alone in a hotel and a dame will come in, tear off her clothes, scratch her face and scream and you try to talk yourself out of that one. They won’t touch your book but there’s easier ways.” (p. 187)
Geez! This was in 1939! It is a strange and awful world at times. People will do awful things. For what? He does go on to say that all the meddling only sold more books.
“The two most important [things], I suppose—at least they seem so to me — are freedom from respectability and most important — freedom from the necessity of being consistent.” (p. 193, Letters)
This book of Letters is like a Treasure Chest falling in ones lap … I’ve completely forgotten about Kerouac and Sextons Letters as they pale so in comparison with Steinbeck but please do not hold this against them … the books are so different … such completely different characters and John is just much needed at this time. He is a much needed Force of energy because things have been so low for so long and here is a man where the whole world is attacking him and he rises up. You really have to read between the lines but he is such a Great Man of Character and yet it is his lack of Character that makes him so Great!
“I want this book to be itself with no history and no writer.”
(p. 181, Letters)
He is saying what has been coming up so clearly in here for years … the Writer is not the Author. He knows, he Knows it too! Do most Writers?
Also, he is a writer who is on the precipice of war and is beginning to sense its coming. The sensitive often do. I suppose. I don’t like to “think” that war is coming … but sometimes it is felt. Like a march almost.
A Heart Vibration.
This will be the first World War with women actively fighting in it. Speaking of Marching, just this past weekend there was a women’s march … maybe this is a woman’s war? Always something. Always something to fight about. We live in heaven and constantly create hell. For what? To be right. People think happiness is being right … I am or have been one among them. But that is just a momentary happiness … not true and lasting happiness. It is like the momentary peace between wars. It is not really peace … it is just the momentary contentment of being right. But people never keep whatever popular idea of what “right” is for very long and as soon as the tides sway … and the next thing to be “right” about flares up and the next war appears. It’s the children who always suffer war. Never the men and women who are too busy blood-lusting for it.
It is the Children … Earth’s Children who sacrifice the most.
The Ageless, Timeless Child.
“I was washed up and now I’m alive again, with work to be done and worth doing.”
-John Steinbeck (p. 197, Letters)
John would use cocaine to relax plants before killing them … although he says it is quite expensive to do so, even back then:
“I’m doing (to me) fascinating work trying to relax anemones before killing them. They are terribly retractile and must be thoroughly anesthetized before the formalin is introduced. Cocaine will do it but that is expensive.” (p. 197, Letters)
I already know that it is just as horrible for a plant to be killed as it is an other living species and animal … they are no different from human. I don’t like knowing this. I don’t like killing and yet am nearly maniacal about eating.
Strange what he does find to work:
“It is — heavy mixture of oxygen in the water which gets them very drunk, then a weak solution of aspirin (believe it or not). When they are deeply inert—a shot of epsom salts, fairly strong solution and after six hours a formalin wick. I foozled it last week with too much aspirin, but I think it will work when I get the amounts worked out and that takes many tries. Sound silly?” -John (p. 198, Letters)
Wayneji suggested always that we put aspirin in the vase with cut flowers. He also would share with us to blow air with the mouth into the bottom of the cut stem. When I would do this I would always get the utter sense of the complete futility of the attempt to breath back in what had been so callously (in most cases) cut off.
Steinbeck saw a Manta Ray 60 Feet Across!!!! Sixty Feet! OMG God! I wonder if humans allow such a specimen to exist anymore or if they have killed them all by now. Steinbeck is also a hunter … but just mentioned they went Bighorn Sheep hunting and he was happy to have found no sheep. :o)
“The people we meet on the shore have never heard of Europe and they seem to be better for it. This whole trip is doing what we had hoped it might, given us a world picture not dominated by Hitler and Moscow but something more vital and surviving than either. From the simple good Indians on the shore to the invertebrates there is a Truer thing than ideologies.” (p. 201, Letters)
The energy started up but then there were distractions and it fizzled a bit but there was a push to keep going with whatever would come. It was going to be titled Beautiful … but then after the distraction the whole thing morphed.
(Previously titled Beautiful)
Joy A. Sters
January 26, 2018, 2am
(Written in The Sacred Space)
Beauty, they say …
“Is in the eye of
Beheld and beholden
in the one that Sees …
Light in another.
The Dreamer; Dreams
The Seer; Sees
Entwined in these.
Light Burst Forth
What Darkness Hides.
What is Reached for is Lost
In Rising Tides.
A Moment Shared
A Lingering On.
A Passing of Night.
A Raging Storm.
The Rising Dawn …
Time and Again
Allowing the Beauty
To be Discovered
Well, it’s not anywhere near what it seemed it would be.
Recently there was a Glimpse or a Flash of Seeing everything out of the eyes as The Mind. No separation. Simply Mind … which included everything about what I think I am … this body (i.e. mind). It was quite pleasant but didn’t last very long. Sort of similar to putting on Virtual Realty goggles except that the body itself is the Goggles.
Someone bought my house. :o(
I know it wasn’t my fucking house but still. :o(
Yes I am.
“I halfway believe that I dreamed you.”
-John Steinbeck (1943-48)
Some of the reporters over here are viciously resentful of me and some are very kind. But every once in a while one of them goes out of his way to tell me how much my stuff stinks. I think they are probably right. I get very tired of it. -John (Letters p.259)
“Also I have a symptom or two that you will probably recognize. Sudden blank brain—nit knowing who or what I am. They only last for a few seconds and are followed by a blinding headache which lasts a few seconds and then alright.”
-John (Letters p. 265)
“And I do want to go sit out on the rocks and fish and not catch anything.”
-John (Letters, p. 271)
“Among other unpleasant things, modern war is the most dishonest thing imaginable.” -John (Letters, p. 273)
What a surprise to just read the following:
“I have been planting cypress trees to fill in some of the old ones that have died. They seem to belong here. The Monterey Cypress is unique in the world except for one part of China, and the myth is that the Chinese explorers planted them here. It is known that the Chinese planted trees instead of flags as a token of discovery.” -John (Letters, p. 276)
It is only interesting because i have never heard anyone that I can recall ever mentioning Cypress trees.
It’s taken a while but I finally was able to sit down and write Tony back:
Hey T ... for weeks you have been on the mind and I have wanted to write but just have not been able, until just now to get myself to do it. Your email about "getting out soon" sort of set something off inside of me ... like a trigger ... I was flooded ... inundated with the past ... I had no idea I was holding on to so much about and in many ways against you. Maybe it was similar to those times that you have sent letters out to people sharing that you saw what you did and apologizing ... I was seeing it like that ... as if I were writing you a letter I wasn't going to send ... because I saw that when you would send those letters ... it really left no room for the person to say ... Hey, wait a minute ... this doesn't exactly get you off the hook! But because you sent the letter and never really connected with the person (i.e. my mom in this instance I am thinking about) it sort of cleared the air for you and left a pile of shit on her/our doorstep. Now I am not saying that what you sent to my mom all those years ago and to the many others you sent them to was crap but it came through a few weeks ago as a rather crappy thing to do to a person, because I had thought of sending a letter to you and spilling out all the things that I was finding still hard on my heart about you and the trigger to all of it was you getting out of jail because we have done this on a few occasions now and the person that gets out is not often the person that wrote the letters or in this case emails all those years, months or whatever length of time. The "you" that is in prison is only one aspect of you and in many ways, it is the humblest and easiest aspect to interact with ... the one that gets out of prison not so much and usually after a very short time just disappears off the radar, but that was then and this is now. However, I was surprised to see how much anger I still had coming up around your person ... there were just so many things I was seeing that I wanted some "better" aspect of yourself to do something about ... but you see it is all in the past ... there is nothing that can be any other way ... things just went how they went ... but it has taken me weeks to even get to the point where I could write you anything at all without it being in an attacking way and maybe even this is ... I don't know but I don't mean it to be. Most of what came up is around Mikel but not all of it and so there is probably much of the Grieving processes still being gone through. On top of that ... just last week my ex-husband died. It was unexpected and has been a rather crushing blow unfolding upon my person and there has been a great sense of failing him ... the things that you see after someone you love dies are very different from what you experience of them when they are alive and it is very saddening to see how great the contrast is. He was/is a good man and am lucky to have known him. We were together a long time and I always sort of thought we would be hanging around each other to the very end ... but the very end came way quicker for him than I would have imagined and now all chance of anything imagined is just fantasy. So it's been a challenging couple of weeks, to say the least.
One of the things that came up while I was going through whatever that was I went through in regards to you .... is that your children will probably have similar feelings toward you and it came up to share with you ... though completely up to you whether you heed what is shared ... that you face them defenseless ... don't have excuses for any of your behavior ... just stand there and let them say it how they see it because that is how it is for them ... whether true or not ... it is how they see it and if you can stand there ... sort of with your hands down and just willing to be seen as something you would rather not be seen as ... and just Listen to what they have had to go through ... what they feel they have lost in their life around you or whatever it is that they have coming up for them ... if you can allow them to have that ... you will give them a Gift that is Huge beyond what most can imagine.
You see in the end ... no one is really right ... we just have ways we wish things would have been ... but never were ... and we just want to be heard and accepted which is why you wrote to my mom and me asking for forgiveness all those many times ... well, you have it now ... you are forgiven for anything that has transpired between you and I and I know it is the same for my mother ... but it has been time, in a sense that has healed these things and of course you and I coming back together time and again and sort of hashing it out.
Now I am not saying to let your children, should anything ever come about, to treat you like shit ... I am not saying that at all ... I am just saying to Hear them and for a short time ... bare the weight of blame without defending yourself against it and not belittling yourself for it either ... just be neutral if you can ... like a Tree ... sometimes when I am very distraught I will go up into the forest and sob to a Tree and hold onto it and then I give it a big old hug and sometimes a kiss and thank it for Hearing me ... and there is always a great relief and often times release in me ... in fact it happened with what I was going through with you ... the real Healing came one day when I went up into the Forest and I just broke down and was basically insane with anger and frustration and then found myself holding on to a Tree and sobbing and then the air cleared and some pretty deep and profound insights appeared. So if you can be that Tree for a time ... especially if you ever go to have a relationship that is anything more than superficial with your children ... this may be helpful in that regard and I am Hearing it for myself as well. If you think I have escaped the anger of my children because I actually was there in their lives you would be wrong ... whether a parent stays or leaves there is always stuff to process out with one's children because we all see the world and our parts in it so differently ... but none of us are correct ... we are all wrong in the way we see things ... it's not about trying to become right ... it's about allowing the space to be heard ... whether we believe it right or wrong or anything in between.
I often wish I could Hear more clearly than I can type because the words flow out but aren't taken in as easily or completely. Through the years of sharing with you ... everything that I have ever said/written has also been processed in my person ... you may have thought that you were going through some of it alone but I was and am always going through it with you.
I will close now and let you process some of this through.
I know that time didn’t create the forgiveness … but I didn’t want to preach or sound like this is about teaching him anything … it’s been coming up since Wayneji mentioned the tendency in my person to do so … but once you see that things cannot be any other way than how they are it takes the edge off the concept of “forgiveness” and eventually wipes the concept away completely … but it can be a slow and gradual process. It certainly has been and is here … I still so often forget that things are how they are not how you want them to be … the obvious is not often obvious. It also doesn’t make life any easier … but it does make you more Aware of how you lie to yourself about it.
First dream in over a month and the first remembered, recalled or written down of the year:
DANWEALE - E - AND THE T
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Had a dream about Weale. Don’t remember all that much about it now but we were living in a house somewhere with Tman and Pete. I was working at a place I didn’t like very much … and had come home for lunch and Dan was there and Tman and Pete too. Dan had snagged some E and we decided to take some before going back to work. He breaks them in half … they are Pure White … we take it and he leaves and I can’t find my keys to the car. Tman is not interested in helping find them and is playing with Pete … he is young … maybe 5 to 8 years old … it’s hard to say. I find a set and go out to the back yard … it is a beautiful back yard and I feel more at home in it than in the house … two neighbors are out there and they want something from me that I can no longer recall what as the dream is fading fast … it was a long one with sexual undertones. I get to a car … can’t tell what kind and get in and try to start it but it’s the wrong keys and I realize I am not going to get back to work. But then I do … it’s an office a bunch of stories high and made mostly of glass but not colored it is very clear and it makes it very bright inside. There are cubicles but you can’t see the walls. I am “high” but no one can seem to tell. I feel very good and barely mind being there.
That is all that is remembered. It wasn’t remembered at all … until it just popped into the mind’s eye a few minutes ago which was hours after having the dream. It was nice to see Weale and not be angry with him. I wasn’t angry in the dream at all … we were getting on quite well. He was kind and being what I would call his basic normal self. When he is just chill and not stressed and worried about anything … that Dan was nice to be around and I enjoyed that Dan a lot and if we were both in that space at the same time it was super awesome … which basically was how this dream was. We were both sort of in “chill” space.
You don’t know this, very few do, but Dan and I got married on E. I started to get cold feet, but not for the reasons one might think. I felt too ugly to get married. How strange huh? I looked in the mirror and all I could see was this really ugly person and I didn’t want to leave the hotel room. I was panicked. This is one of the greatest things in my relationship with Dan is that he sort of understood the mental illness or what I go through because he had taken so many psychedelics. If he hadn’t he wouldn’t understand the insanity that arises. I mean he brought E with him to our Wedding … that is a bit out the norm … but he did and there was no intention to take any before the ceremony … until this happened … there was no way I would have gone. It is very hard for me to recall now because we took it and had such a good time and a very good ceremony … but I wouldn’t have budged out of that room without E.
I had never seen myself so ugly before.
I have seen this face morph many, many times but this was a very different kind of ugly and I couldn’t shake it. You could say I wasn’t supposed to but here’s what happened. Dan showed up and I took some E … as did he … we decided to do it together and the rest is history. I spent a long time after that feeling that ugly though. Not as intensely as that day but for the next few years I just felt ugly. It’s shifted … sometimes I see it but now it is just an aspect of this character that sometimes but not with much frequency shows up. There is so much that shows up in my person you don’t get too attached to any one of them. Now there is a bit of tension arising but that dream had actually been nice and even relaxing.
I felt lucky for a long time to be with Weale. He was usually pretty easy going. If he was tired or grumbly … look out … but I didn’t know that for a long time and we had many ugly fights before I did and would just avoid him when he was in that space. However we eventually started to avoid each other all the time to the point we were living together alone. And we had so many fights about things that were so very dumb … but those dumb things ruined our marriage. I didn’t like him very much by the time we split up and I was madly for him when we met.
I was inside out upside down madly.
But you get to know someone like you know yourself and sometimes you know them more than you know you because you are watching them so much and not yourself. I blamed him for a lot of things that really changed him from the man I fell in love with. Because he was willing to change and then I liked the change even less than what I had wanted to change in the first place. But this was not seen until long after we had split up. That was very hard. I didn’t see a life without him. It just wasn’t a concept that we wouldn’t be together but we weren’t and he was pulling further and further away all the time and it wasn’t long after he left that I started falling for someone else and that was all very strange. I was super surprised when Dan moved away. I was scared and disappointed and surprised. In retro anyway. It all looks so different looking back. Dan even said to me that I or he one of us would spend our days reflecting. I didn’t know what he was implying at the time but it “Rang” as something profound when he said it. Sort of like it was echoing throughout the mind.
I miss him every time he goes away. I have missed him and had to go through some pain with each move he has made over the last couple of years. We were so close. I would say there was nothing we didn’t know about one another.
I thought he had balls to leave me.
I was proud to see them. But then I was pissed he had them. He could be so cocky and arrogant. Really and truly like princely kind of shit. I’d think I was married to royalty sometimes … but that aspect of him didn’t stay too long either … it was like facing his three year old self and that kid was a brat. When he came around I would have Tman and Weale to reckon with. Boy they both knew how to push my buttons. But sometimes it would go too far and they often would feel badly, but it would be too late and a certain kind of damage was done. You can only be a punching bag for so long before you just get smooshy … you can’t take a punch anymore. Nothing firm about you.
I was a squishy sqooshy mess.
I feel a bit frightened without Dan in the world with me. I felt the same when Mark left but in a much more devastating kind of way. There is something you kind of take for granted where you have someone in the world you can touch base with if the floor falls out and I don’t even know what I actually mean by that, but I know that if anything major ever happened they would be there. I feel it now like I have lost another one of my men. My Boys. Two of myBoys this year. Mikel would have had my back too. I don’t know if they thought that about me but I hope so. Anytime Mikel had reached out in a sort of desperation I had been there … this last time he didn’t really reach out … not like he would if he wanted me to intervene. I am just trying to understand something. Just letting it go now.
PIG POT PIE
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Had another dream … don’t remember much about this one except being in a house in the kitchen with a man who was cooking … he was fat and grubby looking in appearance and had me keep checking on the pigs that were in the oven. It was disgusting … there were all kinds of pig body parts … especially heads and I had to keep turning them in this massive pan and blood and puss was splattering everywhere.
Wouldn’t even have put the above dream in here as it is/was rather disturbing, except that the first thing that was read this evening is about pigs:
“The letter is unsigned. Instead it is stamped with a drawing of “Pigasus,” the flying pig which Steinbeck used throughout his life as a symbol of himself, either-bound but aspiring. Sometimes the pun is spelled with Greek letters and often it is accompanied by the motto “Ad Astra Per Alia Porci” (“To the stars on the wings of a pig”): “a lumbering soul but trying to fly,” he once explained it and another time, “not enough wingspread but plenty of intention.” (p.296, Letters Steinbeck)
It was the first thing the eyes laid on after that dream so it seems(ed) ironically strange.