Monday, September 24, 2012
Saturday was the Southern Equinox and I was hopeful for the sake of the seen, I could let pass such a day without notice. Not to be so. Since returning from a six-week pilgrimage in Ireland I have been asked way too times if I have “returned to normal,” or “settled in,” or “gotten back in my routine.” Truthfully, the return has been bumpy at best. I have come to realize return to the way “it was” is not very likely. The only undertaking to transpire is my negotiation of how I will now live in this world into which I have been unceremoniously re-thrown, a time and space now so foreign. The internal struggle has been painful. I have accepted the continuing transformational soul shaping work of taking a spiritual walk of 360 miles across the holy filled land of Erie. Walking alone, in near silence, in God’s cathedral of creation, the virgin dark forests, where creatures of the unseen walk and fly—all of this experience has opened my being to the Spirit of the divine in soul natures I could never have imagined. Soulshifting, I have discovered, is possible—anamorphoses, the transformation of the character of self, the being, the holistic nature of ideas, thoughts, behaviors, and imagination, my very spirit of spirituality, have relocated into some ancient yet futuristic habitation of…well…this my new and now rediscovered conscious/unconsciousness. How do I translate a new “third-eye seeing” into a world expecting to see ipictures and videos? This disturbance of my core essence was to be expected—every demon of limping hip be known and now freshly emerging so I might have a face to face in confrontation. Must I French kiss my old “friends” once again? Seems to be….ahhhhhhh! And now these old pains have been joined by some new legions. To be primordial at times is to admit humanity…therein is buried another haunting avoidance waiting to claw its way to the surface of expression in order to be encountered in the nightmare of the night. Joy oh joy! And so? He says with a more than annoying scratching felt beneath the flesh—enough to reach for, what—medication? Were it so easy, toying simply with the seen. No, this battle requires the warrior poet to make peace with the steel-wielding ego of the self. This soul has accepted the soulshifting. The hardest reality is in the necessity of smiling at others who need to know I have “returned to normal.” Sorry, not possible…but I will tell you for your comfort—all is well. Well enough I guess?