Vinn's Journal
6/1/2007 |
Hamburg Hallucinations
Things will ache and break in any given day.
The untamed stallions of longing and desire kick at the stall doors.
They breathe down our necks.
They demand we turn them loose.
They kick the dust in our eyes and charge for the open terrain.
They circle wildly in the freedom of unbounded space.
Dangerous and delightful all at once, they tantalize.
A voice whispered to my deaf ear, "Look to the indisputable reward of every movement moment. They will present themselves unvarnished and devoid of layered language.
Notice what occurs in the dreamscape of a transported memory.
It is a free wheeling ride that rolls over memory mountains and vision valleys, and it waits, wanting nothing, expecting nothing. It just waits."
I ask how I measure the movement moment in value and validity.
Hold to every movement moment according to its color of impact, texture of feeling sense, and weight of truth is the response I hear in the clear blue sky.
This morning I arrived in the body of an ailing elder as she moved about the care center from room to room in her four-wheeled Flintstone mesh cage.
She had swallowed me whole.
She was among her tribe and found grand satisfaction in lifting her arm above her shoulder, a huge signal to her caretakers of a full expressive life.
She was deteriorating.
She was in demise.
She had eyes that were cloudy and vague.
She had the odor of closed closets.
Her life dance was reduced to this repetitive gesture.
A simple lifting of the arm that I perform countless times in any day has become for her a testament of her quality of life.
She speaks to me with her voice and eyes.
She declares that what await us all are diminished facility and a narrowing of breath.
Gasping for air these days as a mess measuring my murderous meandering mind, I am pale.
Thoughts stir the life of the present movement moment into a vat of gruel desire and memory and inhibit my activity.
I hesitate.
I equivocate.
I vacillate.
I demand new issues.
The ones I have are so familiar and stale.
I require new dance steps.
I am falling asleep with the mediocrity of my dance.
I long to awaken to the immense adventure that life serves to the present movement moment and allow it to lead to a bottom boiling point of no thing expected.
Keep me in the dark and let me truly see what is happening.
Keep me in the dark as I learn again the dance of enthusiasm.
The fortune cookie reads;
Take notice and rejoice in what is happening. It may well soon vanish and be replaced by limits.
Do not waste time looking for meaning, rather, spend time listening to the thrilling voice of the everyday meandering.
The simple and daily tasks will continue to give liberation from the dread of dark drivel.
Celebrate the walking up a flight of stairs.
Sound the clarion over rising from a chair to open a door, unassisted.
Witness the miracle of lifting a small child overhead.
These will soon enough give way to dust memory.
Travel well, vinn