I just talked to Rainey on the telephone. He told me he had read this entry and it didn't make sense to him. I read it over and admit it's a little tight-fisted with the insight bit. I'm too lazy to rewrite. Maybe I'll do better manana.
I don't particularly intend to be silly about this, but silliness is sometimes the only way I seem able to approach this ritual. It's about rebirth and be-co-me-ing a child again. Yesterday I wrote about my old father displaying his temporary joy at being like a child again. Writing about that reminded me of the event of my leaving my first wife, and I wrote about that as a blog entry. Later, I found myself comparing my father's escapade in the hospital, and me running away from a marriage that was turning me into a drunk. Ugh!
It was the freedom and delight I saw when my father danced nakid in the hospital hallways in his dotage, and the freedom and light-heartedness I felt when I walked out to I-95 from my best-ever job to hitch-hike to Key West to continue my intended exodus from conventional ways, that I realized this particular form of delight or light-heartedness could be a way-sign or omen that I am is entering the portal to Childhood. In this sense, Childhood is a place. A place that can be visited by grown-ups if they can let go of the being of ex-is-tense, and fall back into the plenitude without losing consciousness.
It's possible for me to fall on my knees and worship adoringly a person totally absorbed in an ecstatic state of Being If I'm currently witnessing it transpire no matter how many other people are watching. I might be discrete about it. I don't know if I would literally drop to my old arthritic knees (that might blow the whole mood... Aaaayyyyiieeee!!!), but I would most certainly be brought to my knees spiritually by the direct observation of and participation in... the ecstasy of Being... no matter the source.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
