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"gradually [and] inevitably"/moment

Yesterday I cried from the moment I woke up. . . and I didn't even know what had happened yet. I cried all day---except for a moment. It is interesting. That was the one moment I was seen.
I saw Anaswara today. She said that she and Neelu saw me yesterday: talking on my phone, skipping down Broadway. She said---they said, "She looks happy". I thought about yesterday---talking on my phone, skipping down Broadway; I was having a moment. I said, yes, "that was my moment.".

So, the deadly question is “why”. You should not ask someone “why”. It is an endless hole you should not jump into. And, besides that, besides just being meaning-making, the only true answer could ever be “because”. Because, I ask you, “chocolate or vanilla?” Then, I ask you, “why?”. Why is for ripping your self out of the experience. Out of the feeling and into the interpretation. Don’t ask why. . . don’t say “but”---oh yeah: don’t say “don’t”.

Walking East: (when I wasn’t seen), I practiced the walk of the shaman: there is a homeless man with light blue eyes, he steps into my path and then out again, I hear the coins in his cup. There is a professional camera at the end of the promednade, a woman shows me a card and ask me “if I’m interested in any of these questions”. A purple balloon crosses my path; it seems I am carried forward on the same gust of wind. An east -Indian American man: I see in his face himself a thousand years back sitting right behind this current youth. He kicks the purple balloon, then a hipi-looking girl dodges it on her bike. This, “the walk of the shaman”: not that any of these things mean anything. But just like---when you’re teaching a class or doing a session and there are people coughing, sirens outside, someone walks through---it’s the practice of seeing the random bits as part of the medicine.
I stopped my noticing—I had noticed that I had stared to narrate my noticing. I noticed myself noticing, “you know when you. . .” , you know. . . that same passive, disassociative voice I’ve been using here? That notice set me thinking of energy leaks. All this languaging stuff: the way thoughts shift your energy and that literally changes your brain my brain one’s brain. Defer to English-language-mantra: “Iamenough,thereisenough,Itrust.”: on loop.

Today, Jasmine wrote a blog about giving a homeless man a penny (by accident) and then a dollar---wondering if either made a difference. I think about that all the time. I’ve been thinking lately that that is why I do the sorts of work I do---helping people shift energy when it is still just energy. . . before it’s ““too late””. Retaliation to the thought that no amount of money or effort is gonna shift it once its crystallized so far. . . probably not in this life time. So you work with it as energy---a solution from a different plane than the problem. But And, this is about my shifting.

(Jump cut:) Yesterday, one hour later, crying on the ground (Tracy said to get on the ground). Hanuman came to visit me. I said, “I can’t even be seen right now”. I was dead. He left.

Walking West: (when I was seen) Jack called and it was playful again. Right in it, talking about it, laughing about it: someone far away. . . I was happy he hadn’t dissolved with this world. When the traffic signals were aging, I flew across the streets. This is what I have; that was my moment.

You may get from this languaging talk that I was in Communications class these last two weeks. I have never watched people shape-shift so completely and so often in my life. Even before this class---the last month or so—I’ve been noticing when things happen in a subtle world (sometimes I know what “real-world” things the shifts relate to, sometimes I don’t). It reminds me of riding on planes with my mom when I was little, she asking me to say the exact second when the plane’s wheels had left the ground. I got stirred up, I got shifted. And then, each day, I woke up to a world that no longer fit.

That old world, I watched it fall apart and me get blamed-andrightlyso. Now, I watch myself sitting in it’s pieces almost every pieceofworld left around me jagged and wrong, though totally right. But, And, that is “why” and I should not ask “why”. It is a deadly question and an endless hole that I should not jump into. Don’t ask why. . . don’t say “but”---oh yeah: don’t say “don’t”.

Comments

The one line that speaks a ridiculous amount of truth is:"Why is for ripping your self out of the experience. Out of the feeling and into the interpretation." Wow. We are always asking WHY...always analyzing - which is what yoga teaches us to avoid...just to be. That's it. In the HERE and NOW. So simple, yet so very undeniably challenging! Beautiful blog!

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