bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Tag: sneaky ton of bricks

Brick to the head! Again.

Things are looking up.

Did you ever have one of those days?

I seem to be having one of those lives.

Oh, no, please do not misunderstand me.

I don’t think that that is entirely a bad thing, mind you.  I’m kinda sorta getting what I asked for…in the most roundabout way possible.

~~~~

Let me start from the end, and work backwards…

This song:

 

…which has these lyrics:

Come with me now
Come with me now
Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna take you down
Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna show you howWhoa, come with me now
I’m gonna take you down
Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna show you how

Afraid to lose control
And caught up in this world
I’ve wasted time, I’ve wasted breath
I think I’ve thought myself to death

I was born without this fear
Now only this seems clear
I need to move, I need to fight
I need to lose myself tonight

Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna take you down
Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna show you how

I think with my heart and I move with my head
I open my mouth and it’s something I’ve read
I stood at this door before, I’m told
But a part of me knows that I’m growing too old

Confused what I thought with something I felt
Confuse what I feel with something that’s real
I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn’t even take a bite

Far away
I heard him say (Come with me now)
Don’t delay
I heard him say (Come with me now)

Far away
I heard him say (Come with me now)
Don’t delay
I heard him say (Come with me now)

Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna take you down
Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna show you how

Afraid to lose control
And caught up in this world
I’ve wasted time, I’ve wasted breath
I think I’ve thought myself to death

I was born without this fear
Now only this seems clear
I need to move, I need to fight
I need to lose myself tonight

Whoa, come with me now

Whoa, come with me now
I’m gonna take you down
Whoa, come with me now

~~~~~

 

 

The latest words that the Internet has offered me taste strange, but not unfamiliar.

Some days, I don’t have to look very far into the Internet, before I find a sneaky ton of bricks.

First, there’s these:

By our nature we are drawn to relationships because of the sweetness we actually crave to experience.  But that is just what draws us in.  Just as fruit draws us in to forward its own procreation, relationships draw us in by their own sweetness, so that we will come to the pit, experience breakdowns, discover ourselves and be forced to evolve, just as nature does.

Breakdowns are designed to happen.  They are meant to happen for the purposes of our own evolution.

Garrison Cohen

How strange it is that a few days ago, I was talking with a friend, and I suddenly found myself unpacking emotions attached to an event that occurred in my past that I’d never allowed myself to feel, because the event was a source of anger and shame.

Sufficed to say, that unpacking led me to a realization that I did not like about a situation with which I am presently struggling.  I’d like to say that now that I know of it, I’m not going to hide from it, but then again, I’m pretty stubborn.

Childish, even.

I do not want.

I will not go.

I refuse to move. 

I did not move.

I don’t want to see.

I don’t want to know.

 

 

I am afraid.

 

I can’t, I said aloud, to Him, later that evening.  It feels impossible.

 

And so, not too much later, I was surfing the web, avoiding my husband, and vacillating between tears and anger…

 

And I see:

 

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it.  Impossible is not a fact.  It’s an opinion.  Impossible is not a declaration, it’s a dare.  Impossible is potential.  Impossible is temporary.  Impossible is nothing.

Muhammed Ali

~~~~

 

I don’t feel better.

 

 

FPG Friday: A Koan and its Message – Anoja Seeks the Self

On Friday, I sat by the plug in the dining hall, waiting for my iPhone battery to charge.

To pass the time while I waited, I continued to read the Kindle sample from The Hidden Lamp: Stories from Twenty-Five Centuries of Awakened Women, as compiled and edited by Zenshin Florence Caplow and Reigetsu Susan Moon.

‘Anoja Seeks the Self’ is the second koan discussed in the sample.  It is listed as being from India, 6th Century, BCE.

The gist of the koan, as I interpreted it:

Anoja seeks Buddha, after her husband, the king, Mahakappina, has left her and all of the kingdom to her, to seek Buddha.

Anoja thought to herself, ‘Surely, Buddha’s message, is not just for men.  I will go seek him.’

When she arrived, she heard the Buddha’s message, and she and her retinue sought and became the first of the four levels of Buddhist realization (‘stream-enterers’).

Meanwhile, Buddha had turned her husband invisible, and then,  Buddha asked Anoja:

 Do you seek the king (your husband) or do you seek the nature of the self?

Without hesitation, Anoja answered that she chose to seek the nature of her self.

Anoja knew that self-knowledge is a richer treasure, and more precious than any other in the kingdom.

More precious than any in the universe, in fact.

~~~

Upon reading this koan, several thoughts occurred to me, and suddenly gelled into a coherent whole that hinged upon the concepts related specifically to the word, precious.

A sneaky ton of bricks.

“Are you the new person drawn towards me?”

Walt Whitman,  1819–1892

Are you the new person drawn toward me?

To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;

Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?

Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?

Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction?

Do you think I am trusty and faithful?

Do you see no further than this façade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me?

Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?

Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?

~~

I love this poem.

And there is actually a reason for my posting it, which I’ll get to in a moment.

~~~

But first, I wanted to express my consternation at being very near the halfway point of the month, and yet, my intention of writing a daily devotional to Loki here, obviously, has not happened.

Though it hasn’t been for lack of material – though I did worry/panic a bit at the possibility that I would run out of things to post, and yet, surprisingly, that is not a problem — but it is entirely due to my inability to actually commit to sitting in this chair each day to actually post something.

And that is a problem.

Because now my brain is sorta backed up with stuff, and I have this wild ADHD-fueled desire to Post All The Things(!!).

But, with the help of some deep cleansing breaths, I’ve realized that I can commit to, at the very least, posting today about this poem.

Well, because, you see, this poem kinda snuck up on me, in a very specifically strange and delightful way, and I figured that finding this poem this morning was a sign that maybe I should talk about this poem.

Today.

In a post.

Right now.

~~~

Being a native New Englander, I am somewhat familiar with Walt Whitman, as Whitman is often lumped in with Longfellow, Thoreau, Frost, and other poets/writers of that time period….and Longfellow, Thoreau, and Frost are definitely associated with New England in a lot of ways. (Even though I was somewhat surprised about 20 minutes ago to re-discover via Google that Whitman is from New York. Hmm. I don’t consider New York as being New England, so that seems a bit off, but I digress…)

So, I would even say that I somewhat like Whitman’s poetry, and I considered myself familiar with a lot of his poetry, too.

But, mind you, Walt Whitman is certainly not enough of a favorite poet of mine that I maintain a digital collection of his poetry or anything.

But this particular poem?

I’d never seen it before.

And I almost typed ‘…until today’ but if I said that, it wouldn’t make any sense, really, because I found the poem this morning saved to my ‘Favorite Bookmarks’ list.

Now how could that be if I say that I never knew that this poem existed until today BUT it was somehow added to my Favorites list previous to this day?

Because it so seems to have been.

And yet, I don’t remember ever adding it to my Favorites, and this is my laptop, and no one else uses this laptop but me, and yet, it was obviously added before this day, because there are several entries before and after it that I do remember adding.

So.

What does it mean?

I don’t know…and yet, here is this poem that speaks to me today about something that has been on my mind for weeks, concerning authenticity.

I don’t know what this poem does for you — and feel free to let me know how it strikes you — but I know what this poem did for me this morning.

It got me to thinking about Loki’s ‘face’/’facets (and my own, too, of course.).

It caused me to think about how each face/facet exists alongside the other faces/facets, and how these faces can be ones that are intentionally shown, or they can be ones that are intentionally hidden, or even faces that one doesn’t realize are being shown/seen or hidden/known until one is ready to see/know them….

Hmmm…there are so many of them, aren’t there?

And it’s funny how this poem seems to have shown up on my Bookmarks suddenly, and its words hit me like a ton of bricks.

This poem is, in my opinion, a sneaky ton of bricks.

But then, again, it strikes me as definitely a poem about approaching. Approaching someone whom one wants to know, or one thinks that they know, and this poem can serve as a little introductory interview.

Ah….I see what you did there.

How so very… Loki of you.