I am now without the catalyst in my life. The man who would have had me at the Bell reunion. The man who would have had the lawns mown and been revelling in the gardens. I am finding an unexpected peace at the moment but I aware of the Loss. Aware of the difficulty of doing things alone instead of in partnership .
Its been days now without the cramping pains and a gentle calmness is also coming. I think its the combo of the acupuncture, the chinese medicine and the lymphatic drainage.
Today I did a meeting. Didn’t enjoy it much with cocky unteachable newcomers but it still worked for me. I cruised into town and had lunch at the Boardwalk with its new owners and Dean.
Then Dropped in on Sandra and chatted over a cuppa. Other way round.
And after school she came along and mowed the lawns and things look a lot better and then I cooked myself another good meal. Pretty surprising all up really.
AND TODAY I WORKED SOMETHING OUT. I HAVE ALWAYS HAD RADICAL THINKING BUT NOT ACTED RADICALLY. CAUSED SCHISM. ONLY DRUGS COULD FILL THAT GAP. NOW ALTERED THINKING DOES.
Time to proceed in life and bring with me the things he taught me.
Di came to visit today and we took some stones and sand from Nambucca up to Izzy’s Place. We talked and drove and ate at the OVH. Years we have walked recovery walkings. Many years now.
This week has seen a subtle change inside of me. Almost as if that broken thermometer is beginning to work. I seem to be getting sleepy as one ought to. And hungry as one ought. For all these months since the Coma, it hasn’t been like that. I have merely done what I know people do but without the sensory prompting. I eat. I sleep. I walk. I go to the toilet. But it has been a learned behaviour – that’s all.
But this week – I seem to be kicking into some kind of physical functioning. I wonder whether the acupuncture has helped on that. Di thought the poisoning was very likely and told me of a house in Wombah which was vacated for more than a decade while the poisons cleared away.
And the Haven is gone. The Place with Izzy where I could dwell. Untouched by the outer world. Now I am building one for myself again. It must be really difficult for the people from very long term relationships. People who haven’t been on their own before. It is difficult enough like this. When I go up Valery Road to his spot, then I’m purely sad and its all more real and makes more sense to me. And its then that I wish for the ordinariness to come back. The routines and the little doings. I thought myself finally safe in life. Finally being take care of. Finally able to settle into Life as normal people do without the total dominance of Fear.
And now I am back in my own place where each day requires a tight monitoring – a daily dealing with anxiety and dread. That’s not easy. It involves rigid programming and conscious planning of the days and a refusal to allow the depressed emotions to rule.
Tonight, my legs are again tightly swollen -being alone again means – convincing myself not to freak out or give up over it.
Tonight, it seems very dark outside and that means – not letting fear tell me that people are lurking. Telling myself I am OK on my own.
Now its up to me once again to get lawns mown and pay bills and cook meals and create the Haven.
I didn’t think this is what was going to happen in my life.
Hey, Iz. And you weren’t ready for it to end. I hard you sing that last day and watched you build the Platform – How beautiful you were. Good Night, my beautiful LADY, you said. Propped up on pillows. I shall be in a little later, said I.
THE BUTTERFLY IS BACK AND SITTING WITH ME AND THERE IS SMOKE CURLING ROUND THIS LITTLE LIGHT.
I found some of the content of the Richard Moss Book. It seemed a little simplistic to me and American when Iz and I first began talking of it. I had read it years before but there is no denying that the damned butterfly is fluttering all around and taking rest on my chair and in my hair and on the wall above our bed.
And the healing I am in the middle of now will need once more to be along these lines because Western Medicine inspires zero faith in me and alternate healers very little more.
What can warm me and soothe and comfort is the simple life developing around me and within me.
Richard: Yes, and I didn’t have any guideline to do this. This was a spontaneous insight, to just watch the thoughts arise. I had an image, a dream and in the dream I asked the question, “Who has been here before?” And the answer came back, “Jesus.” This is in the dream, so when I woke up from the dream, I said, “Alright Jesus has been here before. I have to know what consciousness Jesus had realised.” I was Jewish, non-practising. I’d read the gospels once, a few months before and I’d found myself crying when I read them, out of some kind of recognition. And here I have this dream that says, Jesus has been here before. I said, “OK, if Jesus has been here before, what’s that consciousness?” At that point I started this questioning. This is a story about me. It’s a story about the past. This is a story about life. This is a fear of my feeling. This is a judgment of myself for feeling. I’m sitting in the back yard of a friend’s house. She was a Jungian analyst and she realised something very powerful was happening to me. I’d called her on the phone and she’d said, “I’ll come and get you, stay with me.” And in the back yard as I’m doing this process, I’m getting quieter, and the fear was subsidising a little bit, and there was this black butterfly, and a white butterfly dancing in the air. They landed on a branch. They mate. They break off. They dance in the air and the black butterfly, the darker butterfly, lands right on the middle of my forehead. At that moment – which is why the book’s called The Black Butterfly – I became One. The inner and the outer were the same thing. It was all love. It had never been anything but love. Richard Moss was there, only in the background, as some kind of observer, aware of what was happening. After that I could see energy, feel energy and have a tremendous sense of empathy with people. Whole new dimensions of awareness opened up. And the truth is saying all that, it didn’t change the fundamental part of my ego that was still insecure and competitive. I’ve had to work on that. It didn’t change the part of my ego that had been predetermined by, let’s call it the patriarchal psychology of our time. It didn’t let me understand the deeper feminine quality of life, which is about nurturance, contentment and being. I still had this urge to do and any time I would start to do, I’d be anxious. Any time I would Be, I would be fine, more than fine. And so my path in life has been this navigation between contraction and openness. And I know the path because I listen to my body. Just the slightest contraction… then I know I should be saying something different to a friend, or different to my wife, or listening more carefully. The moment I say the truth, or listen more carefully the contraction relaxes. That’s the path that I’ve walked. A path very much guided by my body. My body tells me when my mind is in conflict with reality, when my mind is in conflict with what is.
Iain: So when you had the experience after the black butterfly landed on your forehead, what actually changed in terms of the way you viewed reality?
Richard: [Pauses] not a lot in the sense of some sort of philosophical formulation.
Iain: No, I wasn’t thinking of…
Richard: What changed was: people suffer, I suffer, I care, how can I help? And it turned out, as soon as my heart was open, I was helping. I would sit there and tears could run down my face. Someone near me would just feel safe, they would be seen. They would have their own answer come.
Iain: What I meant was did you have a different reference point for who you are?
Richard: Yes, in a certain sense I did. It’s a dangerous reference point; an essential reference point. I had a witness position, I could watch what arose inside of me at the level of sensation, at the level of feeling, at the level of thought and I knew I was more than that. I knew that as an aware entity, as an aware being. I transcended what I was aware of, but I didn’t have identification with the aware self. I basically saw that whatever you call illusion was me; whatever you call transcending of illusion was me. I didn’t feel like I was the viewer of my unhappiness and therefore not unhappy. I was unhappy and the viewer of my unhappiness.
I was lonely and the viewer of my loneliness. I was needy and the viewer of my neediness. Walt Whitman was the very first things I read after this awakening and one of the things he said was, “The higher shall not be demeaned by the lower, nor the lower dismissed by the higher.” And it’s always been my path. It’s always been my path. I would rather define myself by whatever I would call small and weak, than [by] whatever I would call transcendent and greater, because the transcendent and the greater turns out to be a little too impersonal. A little too abstract and a little too desensitised, whereas the part that hurts, feels, and loves, and cries, that part is so intimately human, intimately connected to the wind, the sky, nature, the earth, and people. That’s where I like to live my life, so close to this embodied state of being – embodied awareness. It’s never awareness for me, it’s embodied awareness and not just embodied, I’m more than my body of course, but without my body I would not have any way at all of celebrating life
Geez. I had a good night’s sleep and got up early just to look around at things and then whammee, in comes the Hurting again. I surely wasn’t expecting that. Not one amp. Not one muso. Not one green mike stand. Feck you, Girls.
Surely miss you, Iz. Who the Hell is going to laugh with me again. Who is going to go on long walks with me and sit iin doctors’ surgeries. Who is going to take me out to dinner and lie beside me through the night.
Who am I going to show my world to. Who is going to travel longways with me. I am all shattered and broken and some of the glue isn’t holding on the bits I have been putting back together.
Its raining and raining and soggy and soggy. And I can barely keep going on. All crumbled. I know things I would like to do and things I HAVE to do – but I can’t do them. Let it rain then. Somehows I might need to make an even deeper change. Running feral looking like I am changing won’t sustain me. I need to sit right here and be truly altered. Its crying time again.