I wonder what I had in mind when I titled this entry? According to the date, it was last Thursday (I’m writing this on Sunday), and I remember feeling poised again, still, on the edge of … of what?
Oh yes. On the edge of knowing what I should do.
Now there is a truly odd concept: “There is something I should do.” This concept, along with it’s traveling companions, “I don’t want to do it” and “I don’t know what to do” reminds me of a book I’m listening to now, The Stolen Child, by Keith Donohue. I’ve only listened to the first couple of chapters, but I’ve heard enough that the image of a changeling lurks in my subconscious.
Like changelings, “should I?” and “I need” present themselves as legitimate parties to a decision when, in fact, they are enchanted impostors, substitutes for reality, come to seed discord. And boy, are they good at it.
I’m fascinated by how Mind wriggles its way into every nook and corner, coopting even what might otherwise pass for Awareness. “I’m here!” I notice, and poof, I’m not.
So it was, last Thursday and on into the weekend that I’ve been engaged in marvelous contortions. (And to think I regard myself as less than fully flexible.) To wit, last Wednesday at bedtime:
ME: I want to get up at 6 and work on my WOW assignment.
IMPOSTOR #1: What if I want to sleep in again?
IMPOSTOR #2: No, I really do want to get up early tomorrow. And if I don’t, I won’t.
Notice how IMPOSTOR #2 mimics an “enlightened” me. Very sneaky. The plot sickens:
ME: Look at the time! How did it get so late?
IMPOSTOR #1: I might as well set the clock for 7:30.
IMPOSTOR #2: Damn it. I want to get some things done. I’m tired of playing hide and seek with my to do list.
Don’t you love it? On Thursday, I awaken at 5:30.
ME: Eyes open. I stretch gently. It is light out, I feel lovely. I think I will get up.
IMPOSTOR #1: I check the clock. It’s 5:30. Why not get up now and get ahead of the game?
IMPOSTOR #2: It’s not a good idea to pressure myself. Maybe I’d rather dream a bit more.
No changelings could do a better job of masquerading as my true self while playing havoc with my every present moment. Notice how this time both used a form of spiritual one-upmanship to distract me from Now.
What’s my point? Not sure there is one, at least not one I want to claim in the moment. Mind is amazing, and I’d be playing far above my handicap were I to pretend that what I think doesn’t seem real to me, and sometimes it doesn’t.
And what do you know? That brings me to this point: It ain’t over until it’s over, and when you arrive you won’t be there.
Smiles.
Photo Credit: Martin Bydalek. Photo manipulation: Yours truly.
Surfing the Edge, Again, Still
