An Ascension and a Return (For the first part of this five-parted series, click here and for the second installment, click here and for the third entry, click here and for the preceding offering, click here.) “Be Love,” whispers Bryan, whisting me through the Portal provided by the Immortal as his proven Presence thrusts a read more..
“Be Love,” whispers Bryan, whisting me through the Portal provided by the Immortal as his proven Presence thrusts a penetratingly holy Past up into the thorny Present! Then Daisy growls and howls, “Love is continuous!” – this kindred Spiritedness – as she leads me to the sensation of my own temporal Nature in bits and pieces – fits and starts! And here, witless in this deafening wordlessness, there is heard a sorrow for tomorrow in this yearning for yesterday, and a hopeless humbleness in my hopeful, NOW Humanness.
In a crash and a bashing, the dignity of their deaths is in the lives they live – these apparitions left by those we knew that woof and walk right through by way of us! And All that came before, that goes beyond! Shadows of our Childhood-to-NOWhood Selves, cheek-kissed, outfoxed, stone-winged, boxed in, and hitting it once, again. It’s a matter of Motion, this manner of speaking, that I’m spiritedly dead to the daunting and alive – all fleshly – in the haunting of a feathered phantom sort of beatific birdsong.
Yea – I know not much, but I no longer doubt our Immortality, as Nothing is ever taken from us as we are and do and have all that we call for. We are the Stuff of Stars and Risen Realizations – not mere inklings, but immense Twinklings of Multiversal Expansiveness, exploding into densely intense Vacant Space!
With all that is unknown, I know this much to be true: I will use this sensational Time, my only reserve, and hold no reservations in facing each phase of this spiritual springing into Myself!
I AM THAT I AM Continuous Love inasmuch as beauteous Beasts exist on Earth as we All exult in Heaven. In throat lumps and speed bumps, and in this Silence that startles me into the significance of careless deaths as they sparkle on careful living.
Closure. Control! Rendered actively surrendered in actualized illusions of moments provisionally connected to spaces consociated with months conjoined with places combined to minutes compounded in a spaciousness of AllThatIsness – in the midst of a hindsighted bindingness to the peripheral of singular WayofBeingness in a single-verse, spinning on my axis and hanging, suspended in a chaotically apocalyptically perfect Megacosm!
Dismay. Despair! A science-minded, spirited kind of obliviousness to Oblivion – and I know well enough that when I’m afraid of Death I’ve just got to get to living! Gotta get back – back to the Forests, to the Garden, to where I come from… not as myself as I know myself from/as Adam but as a flesh-blood-bone symbol of a before and an after and a – more importantly – middled NOWness riddled with memories of days as good, godly Midwestern stock seeking to be unstuck and well-rounded amidst a culture of stagnant flat-headedness. Restorative, transformative Stretches of Time into NOW. Now, Now, NOW!
I am chosen to suffer as I decide to thrive! I throw myself at Death as we rise to choose Life as another chanced Manifestation of the Almighty Moment!
I am entranced and awe-struck! And Feather and Daisy and Tessie and Ma Martin and Grandma Riegle and Neighbor Joe and the Jewelry Queen and Terry and Justin and Adam and… harrowingly narrow me into an awesome grandiosity of All – from gratitude for all that is given to this longing for what has been lost.
How did you experience me? I don’t understand you! Who am I? What is this? And why the hell are we here anyway? I know – know not how this happened. Loose connections with sparks and splashes of your flashed features – Crashed! Smashed! – were your eyes green or blue or gray or brown? Hazel! You are Me and I am Her and your Knowledge is mine in this hazed Moment. No more delay! Live! Live Now! Or so S/He says. I listen!
I doggedly, adamantly listen – NOW!
Oh, I so want to be near You! Everything I see, I feel returns to You somehow.
Yes – Feather was murdered eight, nine months ago. I heard her scream in a dream, hate, punched repeatedly on the skull, mine, another thoroughfare fall, and in the crunched wake of a tendency to forget, I tend to a wave of forgiveness – for and in All… I want to follow this outflow back –
Back to my father, through trees and those streets – beyond his bed where we engendered a jilted First Man and pilfered Secondary Woman, Serpent-succumbing and Fruit-sampling and so banished from a forbiddenly bit-into Way of Being that was shared, whole, pure – connected, creating Spirit craving a wild Wisdom of Self and Other – Her and His Oneness with ALLTHATISness!
So, burned out or broken down, alive and awake, know this: Life is NOW. Not in preoccupation or insistent preparation. It’s in this, right Here. Right Now. First and Second Manning in a culture of production and consumption, the stone is rolled away in Presence and Companionship.
In this desperate clamoring and clasping, clutching for the crutches of sex and money and power and influence and things – all this fucking stuff! – all signaling an underlying, overwhelmingly fucked fear of advancing Death as deferring Life as abundantly lived!
Face Death. Death will direct you to Life. Alive, you will revive from the past to the future to the Almighty Present where we can freely, flagrantly, and everlastingly feel and know and BE!
And grieve what you happen to grieve – yea, freely, flagrantly, and everlastingly!
We’re all gonna die. We’ve all gotta live! Perhaps our grief is more for the Selfdom of a time I can only return to as YOU ARE NOW.
And, as a pierced aside, let me put away any indented incredulity and see and feel your wounds. Will you point your finger in mine? I’m here. You’re there. Renewed and restored and oh-so-real in our unceasing Innocence! Blue-veined and red-blooded. Veils torn and a flood of tears. Accepted at last, lapsed and allied in our sheeted hardships.
And know, dear Men Alive. Know now that though you know not everything at hand, as the man-clock ticks and the hand of All-Time tocks in on its collapsed Self – you are here, here, Everywhere! – coming again and again to come more and more to know how to allow a belief in a whole, Holy Moment that stretches out, embedded in Memory, and embodied by You and Me and Feather and Daisy and… Simply…
(As a new writer, I owe much of my motivation and sensibility to the treasure trove that is Maria Popova’s brainpickings.org, where I also happen upon plenty of the artwork that graces these blog entries, including “A Resurrected Adam”’s black-white-and-gold etchings by Mimmo Paladino and that dog-sniffing-dog illustration by Wendy MacNaughton. Of special note, this exclamation of “Man Alive!” was particularly inspired by Seneca’s On the Shortness of Life. And, of course, Sufjan Stevens’ latest masterwork Carrie & Lowell and time-honored Michigan were spinning on loops the whole while.)
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