The Conscious Cataclysm: Echoes From The Needles

4/30/08

Echoes From The Needles

Four hours now since them. I’m tired, weak, achy, and would love to sleep, but can’t for some reason tonight. This shit always plays around with my mind a bit, but I’m much stronger than it is. Or so I like to think. You’ll forgive me for my making this one long paragraph, and for not concentrating too hard on my grammar, spelling, or punctuation, if you can truly imagine what I’m going through that is. Today was an unusual day, well, actually, today was a continuation of yesterday, which sounds odd, but if you knew me it would make perfect sense. When I woke yesterday, it seemed I had more purpose and drive than I’ve had in a week or so. Of course, the hot tea laced with a double shot of cane sugar and honey might have had something to do with it. I naturally rode the sugar out into orbit and got a lot accomplished on my computer. But even after the inevitable crash back to earth, the heightened awareness and focus continued. Welcome to just a taste of mania. It was kind of nice after a couple of weeks of fighting back depression. I continued to stay on my computer all day, taking breaks only to eat and of course use the bathroom. I never left my apartment, not even to get my mail. I did manage to retire gracefully enough, even if it was around three o’clock this morning. Naturally, the first thing I did was get on this thing, the closest of my closest friends. The only “one” I can truly share what I’m really like with. I really feel guilty for saying that. I have some wonderful friends, with whom I share almost everything; but, as we all know, there are those little things that you really can’t tell anyone. I confided in my buddy for about seven hours when I finally decided to force myself to take a walk. But where could I go? What could I do? Having only about fourteen cents to my name left me with very few options. I finally decided that, since I haven’t been happy with the book I’ve been trying to read, I’d walk to the library and check out a couple of books I’ve been meaning to get to. I was actually in the process of searching the online library catalog when my DSL connection failed; a minor incident to some, but a catastrophe to me. Good thing I had decided to go for a walk. This is where it got unusual. I called my internet service provider and the tech walked me through troubleshooting the problem from my end without any success. In the process of making sure he had all the correct information he needed from me to fill out a troubleshooting ticket that needed further investigation, I realized he repeated my phone number back to me wrong. His caller ID was showing that I had called from a number that wasn’t mine. Odd… I had heard another call coming in while I was talking to him and just let the answering service get it; so, when I hung up I accessed the service. It was some other guy’s voicemail. Very Odd… I immediately called my phone service to report the problem. I was told they would have the problem fixed by Thursday. Oh My God! Two whole twenty-four hour days away! Now mind you, a day without the internet is like, well, like not a day for me. I’m quite proud of how I took the news. I took the news in stride and continued with my plans to walk to the library. I’m really glad I did for several reasons. As I was leaving my apartment, I realized that I hadn’t picked up the refill for one of my injections for tonight. Have you ever heard it said that God takes care of you when you aren’t able to? Humm… I grabbed my cold pack that I use to transport the injections from the pharmacy. It was actually a pretty day, kind of chilly, but nice even so. After picking up my prescription, I stopped in the park across the street to have a cigarette before I went on to the library. I was enjoying my smoke, lost in thought, when an acquaintance noticed me and came over to talk. We sat down together and had a very nice talk. I’m glad things happened the way they did because I got to know him a little better and he’s really a very nice man. After exchanging my contact information with him, which I hope he remembers because I’d like to talk with him again, I went on to the library feeling just a little bit lighter for some reason. I found the books I had wanted, one of which was Jack Kerouac’s, On The Road: The Original Scroll, which I’ve been wanting to read, and I walked home with my shots, my books, and my hopes. Even though I was fully prepared for being isolated from the world, the first thing I did was check the DSL light on my modem. It was on! I called a friend, and yes, my phone number was my own again! Was this all some masterminded plan to get me out of the house for Christ’s sake? I had decided to do it on my own, thank you very much; I don’t need such extreme measures. I don’t want to be traumatized in the process. Well, I’ve reached the end of my story for tonight. Have I put you to sleep? It sure didn’t work on me…I’m going to have to find something else to occupy me. Enjoy life!

Birches

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Robert Frost

From Emerson"s "Self-Reliance"

“There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better or worse as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried.”

A Prayer Of The Optina Elders

Prayer of the Optina Elders

O Lord, grant unto me that with Thy peace I may greet all that this day is to bring.
Grant unto me grace to surrender myself completely to Thy holy will.
In every hour of this day instruct and guide me in all things.
Whatever tidings I may receive during this day, do Thou teach me to accept tranquilly in the firm belief that Thy holy will governs all.
Govern Thou my thoughts and feelings in all I do and say. When unforseen things occur, let me not forget that all is sent by Thee.
Teach me to behave sincerely and reasonably toward everyone, that I may bring confusion and sorrow to no one. Bestow on me, O Lord, strength to endure the fatigue of the day and to bear my part in its events.
Guide Thou my will and teach me to pray, to believe, to hope, to suffer, to forgive, and to love.

The Dalai Lama's Approach To Achieving Happiness

"Happiness begins with distinguishing between spirituality and religion. To have a spiritual dimension in your life, you should appreciate your potential as a human being and recognize the importance of inner transformation through a process of mental development.

The art of happiness has many components. It begins with developing an understanding of what are the truest sources of happiness and setting your priorities in life based on the cultivation of those sources. "It involves an inner discipline, a gradual process of rooting out destructive mental states and replacing them with positive, constructive states of mind, such as kindness, tolerance, and forgiveness."

Walt Whitman

"Hours continuing long,
sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the duck, when I withdrew to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself,
leaning my face in my hands; Hours sleepless,
deep in the night, when I go forth,
speeding swiftly the country roads,
or through the city streets, or pacing miles and miles,
stifiling plaintive cries; Hours discouraged,
distracted -- for the one I cannot content myself without,
soon I saw him content himself without me;
Hours when I am forgotten,
(O weeks and months are passing,
but I believe I am never to forget!)
Sullen and suffering hours!
(I am ashamed -- but it is useless -- I am what I am;)
Hours of my torment --
I wonder if other men ever have the like,
out of the like feelings?
Is there even one other like me -- distracted -- his friend,
his lover, lost to him? Is he too as I am now?
Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,
thinking who is lost to him? and at night,
awaking, thinking who is lost?"

Uncovering The True Face

"Withdraw into yourself and look. And if you do not find yourself beautiful yet, act as does the creator of a statue that is to be made beautiful: he cuts away here, he smoothes there, he makes this line lighter, this other purer, until a lovely face has grown upon his work. So do you also: cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, bring light to all that is overcast, labor to make all one glow of beauty and never cease chiseling your statue, until there shall shine out on you from it the godlike splendor of virtue, until you shall see the perfect goodness surely established in the stainless shrine."

Piontius "The Enneads"

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

New Improved Stress Management

Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time because then, you won't have a leg to stand on.
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Some mistakes are too fun to only make once.
Birthdays are good for you. The more you have the longer you live.
Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
Nobody cares if you can't dance well, just get up and dance. (Unless you're Elaine from Seinfeld)
You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.

The Conscious Cataclysm

4/30/08

Echoes From The Needles

My World

Blog Archive

Hetrick-Martin Institute

TREVOR PROJECT CRISIS HELP LINE

Save A Life!

His Story Lives On

Erase Hate!

The Smile Train

Help Save The Honeybees!

From My World To Theirs

Birches

From Emerson"s "Self-Reliance"

A Prayer Of The Optina Elders

A Method Of Self-Reflection

A Rule Of Thumb

The Dalai Lama's Approach To Achieving Happiness

Walt Whitman

Uncovering The True Face

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Possibilities

New Improved Stress Management

Walt Whitman

I"m Glad You Were Here! Enjoy Life!

Parting Thoughts