Shadow

I went to see Sigur Ros in October with a good art experiencer friend, Katie Crawford.

I remember that night I felt like a shadow.

It felt like while Sigur Ros had embraced themselves, and worked with the light shed by their own spirits to form a shape that is projected onto the watching world, I have done the opposite. What people see as my existence is just an outline of me that is cast as my appearance stands between (as opposed to within) the world and MySelf.

I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling because even if it was just a group of humans on some stage, pushing out honesty and sound into our hearts, for that night, I sat for two hours, breathing the same air as the living results of people who unapologetically walk and commune with their dreams.

For a week after, I did my best to simply follow my life, using their music as a guide. Eventually, leading to the present time (3 weeks later) I've mostly forgotten how to live (in any real way) motivated by more than gratification and fear. I'm still happy often and sad, frustrated and fulfilled, but ultimately, after days and weeks, I realize that I have abandoned (in scorn) the line that will lead me to Heaven.





The perfectionist in me would like to package the details of the last two months of my life in this same post or a series of five or whatever. Happily, that is not possible, as I've been influenced by too much to write about. And even if my life had been mundane enough to summarize, I've worked so hard sharing it with dear friends who weren't present that I don't think I'd have the energy or desire to see the project through. I will answer questions, though : )

For a pile of reasons, but mostly my own fault, this summer required a great deal of recovery. My primary project this semester has been slowly putting one block back on another, coaxing one more plant back out of the soil, re-strengthening my heart fiber by fiber. Re-awakening Me. As my good friend Anni said "changing a lifestyle [assumed: for the better] takes a fukin' lot of work and time."

I'm less up-and-down than I was, which is good. I've resolved to establish a healthy, productive balance in my life, which basically involves working hard most of the day, most of the week and then cutting loose in the nights and on the weekends. Kind of a no-brainer, but it beats my previous idea of suspending healthy living until "I'd gotten it all done" and then I'd sort it all out.

Response to Georgia

This is my gut response to Jason Ericson's last two "early October" posts. Based on a counter-movie of sorts called Zeitgeist. It's riddled with factual inconsistencies and sensationalist ideas, but there was one idea that rang with me, and it came from the Zodiac.

I don't know what you get when a shaky idea is butchered, but it's probably something like the following:

Approx. every 2150 years, the Sun appears to rise under a the next sign in the zodiac. That is each sign represents an age, and the age of Jesus Christ is the last 2000 years, since it's been Pisces.

So perhaps 'the end' won't mean of the entire world, just maybe the end of Christianity. If there even is a Rapture, maybe it's a dual purpose, saving the faithful and clearing out the world for a new worship. Not necessarily the end of God, Heaven, religion, morality, whatever.

Of course, in either case, it's I see it kind of like this: Christianity has been around for a little over 2 millenia. There was stuff before it, so while to people who only live ~100 years, it's all we'll ever know. Good reason to follow it. But still, view it as a semester of school; student: The body of Christ. Let's be vulgar and say the grade is people confessing that JC is their savior, whether they mean it or not.

Now with some barf-worthy webbrowsing of generous approximations and if we lump everyone that basically positively mentions Christ (yikes: Christians and Islamists?!) the numbers come out to 2.1 billion + 1.1 billion = 3.2 billion. Which is I mean, at least half of the world population, right? So that would be around 52%, which is.. well, it's an F. And let's toss in another billion just for good measure. awesome. 68%. D+. My favorite.

I think at this point, it would be best not to go into classroom behavior, because that might imply a Parent(s?)-Student-Teacher(!?) Conference and no one wants that.

So I guess what I'm saying is maybe the End will be a relief. I don't doubt that a period of transformation following such a domineering and adolescent system of belief won't be painful and devastating, but isn't that what conscious life is about?

ps. Hey. Yeah it's been awhile. But what is time, really?

Weird

Saturday:

I was asked to dinner by a Korean exchange student in return for helping him find the SOHO Salon in Bellevue where he had gone specifically to get his hair cut.

I had plum wine for dinner which is super sweet and pretty thick, for a wine. I liked it.

Holden Village

It was like I had been reading the story of my life upside down. It took so long for things to make the sort of sense that is acceptable to the human mind. I worked hard for my purpose, to find reasons to justify my existence and actions.

And then I got to the Village.

Now I don't know what to say. As one of the director's said (and my mom reminded me) "It's not Shangri-La." I'm torn up that I cannot see the place that the electricity for my appliances comes from, the hands that prepare my food, the workers who take care of my plulmbing infrastructure. All of the sudden, I feel like I'm living a sort of robot cubicle world, that I'm disconnected again.

Even this, I'm aware that I'm just sending electrical impulses that will be translated into more electrical impulses so that people 10, 20, 50, 500, 1000 miles away can view these ideas. I never want to ride in a plane again, to travel at 500-600 miles per hour, to miss the journey that is so often said to mean more than the destination.

I felt grounded there and I now I feel cut loose, like I have to fight for peace again, live in paradox and absurdity. I loved Vespers every night and Eucharist every Sunday, even just the rhythm as much as the day. I used to fear the Eucharist as a longer service than normal but by the time I left, I had a gentle longing for it by the time Sunday arrived.

Bottom line is I have a compulsion in me that will either be killed alongside part of my morality, or will have to obeyed, resulting in welcome, difficult, and revolutionary changes. I mean, But very quiet revolutions.

I think the one bridge, dangerous and frightening, between my existence then and my existence now is living life as though I were on the verge of death. I can remember distinctly playing 4-5 times a day as though I was going to die in the next 3 seconds. Everything over. It has many roots and my experience with it has been beautiful, but also difficult.

I may try to chronicle my experience, but no selection or grouping of words can do that experience justice.

Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison.