That's what I need to do. Yet I run. From myself.
Out on a boat last night with a wise old man, he said that he kept journals over his life, because he spent so much time alone, he wanted his children to know where he had been, and why. He couldn't resist the force to be alone, because it was the only way to gather his power for what he had to do.
I said in Objective Observer (I think) that I didn't fear Andre anymore. But I do. I still do.
I went for a long walk at Schooner Cove the other night. Fresh cougar tracks were my only companion, and a boon of eagle feathers to be passed on, all but one. Tonight I walked on Chesterman's. The sun was set, and light drifted down below the horizon like feathers from a broken pillow. I was alone.
Healing. Gathering and pushing away. Thinking. When my mind is still, and my eyes off in the distance, I feel like finally my mind is thinking. Without me. I hope it's so. I hope the tattered 'ole supercomputer is finding a solution to what appears to be a problem without one.. In those moments of SILENCE my rat-virgo-brain is scouring around for a piece of my soul, again.
Again: is the problem.
Love - is the temptation.
The cradle is soft and warm
Lose yourself when you linger long
Into temptation
Knowing full well the earth will rebel
The Earth - will always rebel. Can I keep my nose out of temptation long enough to be the person I want to be?
Sad eyes, sad eyes
Where're you going with that confidence?
I'm going to where the boats go by
Caledonia river flow so wide
Still water - Laying over
Caledonia river oh, so wide
Where're you going with that confidence?
I'm going to where the boats go by
Caledonia river flow so wide
Still water - Laying over
Caledonia river oh, so wide
Into Temptation - Crowded House
ReplyDeleteStill Water - Daniel Lanois
Andre - I was wrong, it the Visitor:
I'll include the relevant parts about Andre here,
"Andre. Vancouver Island, probably August again, 1992. I had met two sisters on Long Beach, from Granby(Yes, one was the girl mentioned above), one I fell for, the other was a great friend, and we travelled together around Vancouver Island for about three weeks.
Somewhere around Sooke - we met a guy named Andre, he picked us up hitchhiking. He was Quebecois, a traveller. He had some amazing travel stories from all over the world, a scar on his face from a machete attack on some beach in Central America, a cool guy. As we sat and listened to his stories, and started to see a pattern, Jessica said, "it seems like you're always alone in your stories, do you always travel alone?" A shadow crossed his face, he paused, and said, "always alone, ... always alone."
What could we say to that? We said nothing, we left. I feared it. I feared to be like him, or others I met, brighter or darker, richer or poorer, who had taken the road of 'The Road' and lived great lives, but been alone, always separate.
...
My nature is to travel, I don't actually know what that means, for the shape of my life, but I love it, and me, and I don't feel afraid of Andre anymore. I feel, perhaps arrogantly, like I have gone beyond that point - that this sense of peace and happiness is not fleeting. The only fleeting aspect of it is if I turn my back on it, on my Self. Andre, Shasta, and everyone else - are welcome to hop into the bus and come along." http://errandknight.blogspot.ca/2011/01/visitor-lamp-killing-time.html
Fascinating. That was my last entry before I "fell off the wagon."
ps - it's my brother's birthday today. He knows "Caledonia," and the river, "oh so wide."
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOLxJJo00GE
He had a great chat with Carol about the move to Caledonia..
ReplyDeleteGreat day.
You should read THE STAND again - it'll speak to different parts now.
ReplyDeleteyeah, I should, since it's an adults-revisiting childhood kinda story, it was wierd to read it at 13, be interesting now..
ReplyDelete