It snowed in the night…
Posted in Interested
Spiritual Emergence or Psychosis?
Some of the signs and behavioural symptoms that the DSMIII-R (American Psychiatric Association, 1987) classifies under schizophrenia appear in individuals who may be experiencing a non-ordinary state of consciousness that is not indicative of mental disease. It is, rather, a potentially transformative state that can, with proper treatment, lead the individual through the crisis into a higher state of being. Christina and Stanislav Grof (1986) maintain that “these experiences – spiritual emergencies or transpersonal crises – can result in emotional and psychosomatic healing, creative problem-solving, personality transformation, and consciousness evolution.”
Selene Vega, 1989
Posted in Interested
Je Vole by Michael Sardou
Song from my mother, June 2006.
Mes chers parents je pars
Je vous aime mais je pars
Vous n’aurez plus d’enfants, ce soir
Je m’enfuis pas je vole
Comprenez bien je vole
Sans fume sans alcool je vole, je vole
Posted in Interested
When can I see the kids?
Memories are fading and merging. Not touching them, seeing them or hearing them, he holds on to them through photos and pain. A complex form of loss: not just then, but now and ongoing. A loss that has taken on its own rhythm and pattern: out of sight, out of his mind. Deeply yearning for them, there is no relief. They take on ghostly qualities, occupying spaces other than memory. They are deep within his body as well as outside of him. There is no way to reach them. Which way does he turn?
Posted in Writing
New from old
I want to go to you and hold you. Nothing has prepared you for this: I can tell by the sound of fear in your voice. Nothing has prepared you, yet slowly, year by year, your choices and actions may have led you to this moment. The cruelty of this particular hindsight may be baring its face to you, but you will never share that insight. Better to stay silent and, not deny, but harden to the facts of it.
Silent observer, I have seen this unfold, never knowing if my repeated giving up is a useful way of surrender. I soften into the folds of this now; glad that giving up’s relation has surfaced yet again as my life’s multi layered attempts to let go. The generational gap of our choices, mirrored by these tangible concepts, make the sorrow I feel for you more bearable; yet it had to come to this.
No regrets from those hidden patterns that often come upon us unawares. I pre-empt my freedom now from your letting go, whenever that may be.
Posted in Writing
Phonies, cronies, Jung you make my day
Yes! Thank you for your prolonged rant about the absurdity of Christianity, the blinkeredness of your nearest and dearest, your affirmations that nature is the highest form of God in the world, the baseness of humans, the fact that we are useless, flawed, self reproaching and at the same time there is a Father Abraham in all of us. You know that, we know that – thanks for cutting the crap.
Memories, Dreams, Reflections: autobiography of Carl Gustav Jung
Posted in Interested
Half of what you need and half of what you don’t
Spring is a coming
People help, like the small man in the long grey tweed coat with his fists in the pockets and his elbows sticking out, like a skinhead or a mod, complaining about his fat stomach; and things like, where are the hand marks from when they bring the board out every day? And seeing the people, noticing the things that can take you to a place in your imagination and it’s actually a happy place. Like in the movies, it feels like it might be something that could happen to you one day.
Posted in Interested
Shutter on happiness
The pictures are snatches, not even full faces. Children turning, seeing they are not alone. Their laughter echoes in your mind, smiles linger on your lips. Reflections and self exposure: the finger pulse of proof. Read More…
Posted in Writing
Excerpt from ‘The Stone Diaries’ – Carol Shields
“I was the breakable one. Women always are. It’s not so much a question of one big disappointment, though. It’s more like a thousand little disappointments raining down on top of each other. After a while it gets to seem like a flood, and the first thing you know, you’re drowning.”
Posted in Serious
Twisting the tale
Made it outside today. Saw the frost – the winter is real. Life goes on. I sit in my chair, in my room, waiting for them to take me out; then I sit there and chew and life goes on. Are they talking to me or through me?
Where am I and what happened to my life? Nothing matters to me anymore, what matters to them. Are they smiling at me or through me? Where is my family?
I see the breath in the air. I can hear the sounds around me, but not quite next to me. I can see the pace of life has changed; I gave up, a long time ago, trying to keep up and understand. This suits me fine. I breathe in and exhale; I breathe in and exhale.
My reference point is there, but some days I choose not to use it. I drift and ponder. Why do people walk so fast? Nothing really changes. We sleep and chew. We live.
What was unbearable is not so much – these days. When I look back, I understand; try not to understand. Life was better with its mysteries and pain.
I look back through my mind’s eye and a tunnel stretches out behind me. Flickering memories, I choose, one by one. One day soon, the tunnel will be in front of me. The fading events will be reeling through my mind. I will fall into the welcome depths. I am smiling; the softness is my death.
