The skull of a once glorious shaman - part of the serpent mesa, Huachuma ceremony 1
Sometimes life isn’t agreeable.
Of course, all that means is we’re not agreeable with ourselves.
I am hurting.
A sort of subdued, mysterious ache that shows signs of concrete derivatives, but then dissolves into an intangible ebb.
I’d like to have an outburst. In the old days, I had these … sometimes daily. I would blame things that sounded good (all the many victim stories), but in almost every case, what I fingerpointed was in no way the culprit.
Or rather, who I fingerpointed. Unless the index was nabbing my chest. I know I’m the all mighty creator, when it comes to perspective. And what doesn’t boil down to perspective?
There was a quote on the wall of the hospital where my dad lived for a week and then passed away. I walked through those doors once with him in December, before the Very Bad Turn. He had a test of sorts, and I was in town celebrating Christmas (early), so I joined him for the brief visit.
I saw the quote then and pointed it out to him. He knew how much I loved the writer who first penned the words, and we shared a sappy moment.
The quote says -
“What lies behind and before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”
Circumstances do not make the (wo)man.
So I shall not discuss those right now. I just want to know my *heart*.
v
Ack. She’s faithful and righteous and glowing, but I feel insane amounts of tears. Of course, I’m really busy right now (created on purpose, of course), so I choose not to release.
That’s a mistake. I know this. I need to let go soon. Repressed emotions are the stuff that cancer and breakdowns and all kinds of nasty things are made of.
I guess I’ll work harder at those things that lie within. I have a lot to work with. I just need to let go, and then, grab on for dear life.
Thank you Ralph Waldo Emerson.
