anergic acumen

May 13. 2012: What would you do for love?

I read over an entry from March 6th 2010 today and found myself swimming in the same water that I was the day I wrote that.  Today Im going through the same spin of twisting emotions from loss and heart ache. This is my new rendition of that experience from one particular spot in the cycle…

Theres a little place that you can find pretty easily if you wanted to. Its only one hill past the gas station then a short dusty drive down a gravel road, up a steep driveway and there  now your only a few steps from what was once a place for harmonizing my breath.  I like to think we all have a place like that. Maybe its just a pair of shoes, or a rocking chair. But nonetheless someplace to help us rejuvenate. This place was real fine for a time. You know how these places are, they hold your soul very lightly. Although the spaces themselves are incredible for me they are nothing without the relationships that help you fill them with light.  For you maybe its your books, or church or cleverly prepared responses. Whatever it is you do to gather yourself, mine for a time was in that space and the light that filled it. You know what I mean by light? I mean the light shinning through the windows sure, but also this sort of radiating light that continues after the house has gone to sleep. For me I rented the place and it was filled with sad hanging clusters of loneliness. Enter relationship, and things were feeling much better for me. Quite spick I might say. And not not in a real agonizingly knee straining peroxide type of way. Just the way I felt in that space in my hart, mind and soul. As the days pass the house just gets brighter and brighter. Enter misunderstanding. The first taste of misunderstanding had me falling from my loft to the floor below from the visit of an unexpected guest. This was the sort of misunderstanding that was about trust. Trust of the relationship and willingness to pour all the light in for fear that there might be none left. The light begins to dim slightly as the space experiences it all, yet absorbing it all despite the insecurity and awkward uncertainties. Enter the hug and a kiss.  And light returns immediately and and is it brighter?  You feel better, I feel better despite it all. Enter Misunderstanding. On the second hump things boil into a volatile  mass and light is really hard to find. Enter forgiveness. light returns without break. Then misunderstanding begins to flows like wildfire and you can’t distinguish it from understanding at times. The lights seem to be flashing on and off and I have a difficult time sleeping as the lights come on at awkward times and hit me in places that Im not prepared for. Things begin to move really fast. like some sort of speedway event where I only see you from a long distance away and you blur and distort as I move closer. I know your behind me now and ill just have to go around the track once more to see you. This time Ill slow down and stop. I see you ahead now. Im perfectly ready I down shift and move to a creep. When I stop and get out to approach you, your on the other side of the track waving at someone else. The light has faded completely in that  space now. For you it ends to, somewhere at the end of a sentence or is it between sips of tea? The light that was left only leaves sticky stringy memories in my mind. At this point, the memories are all particular. For me, again, its a smile. And standing knee deep in all the cob webs of a past life, I look back on it all and know that I’ll yet again be spilled through a beam of light. I will do it all again, you will too.

April 26, 2012. This Arm.

You know when you look into the sky when the stars are out. And everything glitters. You know how the stars shine and twinkle and sort of look like they are disappearing but never actually do? And how about the spaces between the stars. You ever noticed them? The blackness, emptiness? What if its the blackness between the stars that is the real show. What if those spaces is where life happens? And take your arm. Zoom in on it time 10 million now your arm looks like the sky pretty much. Space and sparkles. Maybe those sparkles are the corners of smiles or the twinkle of memories and maybe the space and darkness is jet fuel or gasoline keeping this whole show going. 

its funny. April. 23.2012

Its funny. Two bright green shirts. Bright green like toxic ooze, almost florescent. Neither anything I would wear. But I’ll buy them for him because thats what he likes, and I like them too. Or, thats what I say. My teeth are clenched  and Im sweating but I flash a strong white Pan American and pay the cashier. I am sweating because the green shirt in the bag and the women smiling off the mirror are startlingly familiar. Maybe a dream or a memory from a past life? Im confused and fumble for my keys. its strange. Two big ideas. BIG ideas, big like chocolate cake for breakfast on Monday mornings and Big like relativity. One about school, one about love. Both in the balance, and asking for more weights.  Provocative and irresistible life plays hopscotch while love whistles a note, long steady and off key? Its interesting

Dec - 4th - 2011: Night moves

As the universe tumbles into a small crack in my kitchen table alongside newyears resolutions and Christmas dinner. I sit comfortably legs crossed mind slightly clossed and pants down. My place in the woods has lost a little luster on its veneer surface. The drooping  vegetables, last weeks garbage, and a draft from the window next to me freckle it’s shinny surface with a smoky oily dust. The Christmas cards, coloured pencils, a piece of red texture, and the sudden crack of the fire: like a heart jerked to life remind me of the truth. And I stand up, pull up my pants, open my mind, take a sip of coffee and continue getting ready for work.

Oct/26/2011: Peace in times of War.

I live in a cabin now. Wood heat. No running water. An outhouse. Tonight I am using candles. I have electricity and internet access.  Tonight is my first night here. I don’t remember the last time I felt so at peace. My own space. Chopping wood, feeding a fire. My place looks a bit like a shack from the outside truthfully. No siding, only the aesthetics of plywood and a chipped and peeling door. Inside has a lot of potential though. Nice wood floor around fireplace. A lofted sleeping area that looks over the kitchen. My new home, in the Yukon.

Oct-18-2011: The Weight of affluence.

I never really came from money, so to speak. I mean we always had enough to finance whatever was needed. And needs back when I was younger was a pretty flexible intangible. 6 through 15: candy, sports equipment, and anything “cool” was equal to breathing, thinking and freedom of speech. From 16 - 19 it was primarily cars and girls. Anything that increased my access to both of those was milk from natures breasts. 20 - 26 Education drove me forward, consuming it like an addict on a morphine binge.  To the present its power. As I reflect on what I have gained from all that I strived for over the years I am not disappointed but what I gained was certainly not what I was hoping to receive. In many ways I learned balanced: the middle road, the fulcrum between extremes. Often as I plotted and calculated how to attain crumbs of my desired object the truth faded around me; friends, family, relationships, and my spiritual life were pushed into my shadow. As I grow older my shadow objects still loom ominously but I tend to articulate differently and often truth still, still to this day, this minute, finds its way only in the foot notes of the pages of theory and principles. The weight of all I have carried all that I have accumulated, all the strivings and “needs”, and now finally I look for power. I always strived for power I realize now. And by Power I mean a sort of tap dancing la-de-da version of Adlerian Power ( power to become who I want to be, the power to create and be creative). However, this is not about my lack of power through my development, this is about a humanity, an incarcerated soul of a humanity that has been trapped by a child’s expression of power: looking for candy in the “loop holes” of laws, relationships, friendships, social contracts, governments, wars, etc… This is about all mankind; trapped by the iron fist of industrialization and capitalism, while their souls screams from the depths of decaying dungeons for power and the use of their hearts. 

October/4/2011: A duck to be held and chased.

Its a real mixed bag actually. A mixed bag of currents and directions, complicated musings of love and fantasy, dragons, and snakes living in all the seven directions. clowns dancing and laughing and looking gauntly away when I look into their eyes. Platoons of military insurgents firing rockets and plunging with dagers and spears. Drunkards and pillaging thieves set to intercept, deceive and divert with vomit and pusing wounds. Theres clouds of mirrors, distorted and reflecting back disproportionately and irrationally, scents of wardrobes over stuffed, over extended and over consumed. Twisting  sandstorms of lust and flushed faces.  There is also rain water and puddles and puddles on clay surfaces and smelting fumes and whole regions and ideologies giving way and there is an accordion whispering and a trumpet doing arithmetic calculations to the chores of wailing baboons. Love ripples at the heart of the river bank and a Birthday celebration is being held in the home of spirits, and finally there is infantry that have been re re-aligned, re-instated and re-capitulated (and given new tongues). Whispering clowns and noxious vomit is still easy to find but becomes less and less, and there is a duck waiting to be held and chased.