I've been thrown off schedule by all these appointments I've had. I like my routine because I can always back track to where I forgot myself. For instance, I always park in the same row at the grocery store parking lot so I'll always give the appearance of not being lost, because I get lost in thought occasionally, and don't know exactly where I am when I return. I'm pretty used to that throughout my life. there have been lots of occasions when I woke up without a clue as to my whereabouts. Not necessarily because I went to sleep in an altered state, but because I got to where I was in the dark. You know, like my mother's uterus. I didn't even know what "light" was until I got a physical body that had some eyes.
My oldest daughter from my second marriage should have had her first baby by now. She was two weeks overdue herself. As usual, I'll be the last to know, and lucky to know at all. I didn't know when her younger sister had a girl child six years ago, until last year. I meant no more to any of those people than I've meant to my natal family. I think my second wife only had intimate relations with people she hated. Certainly not the people she actually communicated with. It shocked me to see her actually socializing with groups of people when she would never do that with me. Sex seemed to be about the only form of personal communication we ever had. I didn't even know how to insult her by throwing her own words back in her face. She expected me to understand her because I could read palms. It's not the same thing. Reading anything is better with subjective distance.
Relationships seem to be a matter of pace to me. I appear to make friends with runners when I'm into running, and I get friendly with meditators when I'm sick to death of running. It can go anyway at anytime and it really pisses some people off to personally witness me changing horses in mid-stream. All they have to do is change horses too, but the rules of conscience they adopted won't let them do that, and I refuse to get stuck with the sa-me ol'/sa-me ol' due to their fears and not mine. I've traveled too much. I've heard what "good friends" tell about each other to strangers passing through. I know better than to leap to the conclusions I'd have too, if I hadn't widened my scope by being something I wouldn't have been without perceiving the world through other people's eyes and ears. Travel in the sensory dimension broadens. Traveling in the non-sensory realms revealed by the sacraments narrows. Whatever distinguishes that "Bridal Chamber" between in and out, and up and down is wholy.
I drove myself a little nuts yesterday putting off logging into the AppleScript tutorial web site yesterday until late afternoon. If the truth were known, the only thing I got going for me as an individual is my ability to manage my tie-to-me (ti-me). Yesterday was critical for me as far as me-more-I-zing systems go. There has to be some sort of continuum or I seem to let go the tension I need to drive through to the end. It only takes on lapse of desire and the whole thing peters out. Hardly ever is there a redo.
So, I did log in and completed the fourth chapter. I stopped around ten o'clock last night at the end of the chapter, not only because it was a good stopping point, but because I was getting a little confused by the content I was attempting to absorb. So, today, I wanna start out in the middle of the last chapter and try to grok what was confusing me before i go on to Chapter Five. If I don't get it, I just won't be able to continue and hope I'll catch on later. That's not how it works with me, and I can't pretend it's a lie. I learn things incrementally in an evolutionary-like process. One thing builds on the other.
That's not to say that I don't take quantum leaps if they jump up at me, but I know all too well what it's like when my momentum fizzles and my expectation and anticipation of the wonderful results I'll have if I can just jump hard enough to make it over the abyssssss..... Aiiiyyyeeeeee!!!....... oh shit.... THUD!
Infrequently I think about what having read the Evans-Wentz translation of theTibetan Book of The Dead means. Especially the part about how families of the deceased pay a Tibetan lama to come read the Book of the Dead to the dead person aloud for three days after they croak. They say the idea of all burial ceremonies are to help the dead person's spirit realize their body is indeed dead, so they can pay attention to the process that transitions them from the realm of the living to the valley of the shadow of death.
Physical death in this sense doesn't appear to be much different than the death of anything, even the death of some arcane effort to install new soft- or firm-ware in the more-than-me through repetition and redundancy. The most difficult thing to realize is that it's actually and truly dead, and that any effort to resuscitate it will ultimately fail. Sometime, even after it takes seeing the corpse is literally rotting before I catch on (Why am I always the last to know?), that I finally do "give up the ghost".
Damn! Three paragraphs to say that I'm writing my blog early so I can log in to the tutorial and get a decent amount of progress made. Either that, or discover for sure that I can't get over the hump with the difficulties I encountered late last night.
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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.
