excerpt from 'Bohemian Cowboy'
Yesterday was quite a day in so many aspects--filled with wonder, confusion, miracles, anger, breakthrough, the unexpected, the benign.
Let's start with the miraculous and move in reverse. The first miraculous happening yesterday happened last night around nine-thirty. I was parked on the street in my apartment complex where I can pick up wireless from the office. Let me set the stage. I was talking to my mother about my father, as she was explaining some incidents from my childhood. Now, the spot where I was parked is in a very residential neighborhood here in Austin. It looks like any other suburban neighborhood, houses, apartments, stores, strip malls, grocery store on the next street. As I was talking to my mother, I looked over at where the swimming pool was, and there stood two deer, a buck and a doe. Right in the apartment complex by the fenced in swimming pool! I immediately thought they were my dad and my Aunt LaRae coming to lend support for a particularly trying day. The hair stood up on the back of my neck as I explained to my mother what was happening. Not only were the two deer standing there about fifty feet in front of me, but as they stood they stared directly at me, for probably a full two minutes before they bounded off. Now, this is one of those happenings where you are looking for someone to tell because the odds of this happening are so great, only this time I had my mother on the phone and could explain it to her! Of course as I explained it to her, she thought the same thing that I was thinking, that it was my dad and Aunt LaRae. I'm telling you, after my day, and the strange turn of events, I'm not saying it was divine intervention, but the odds (re-iterate) where astronomical in their demonstration. I still can't even believe it.
Now, in reference to the quote at the beginning of the entry. Even though I 'experienced' this very powerful sign, I still woke up angry and agitated. No matter what miracles the notion of faith and the universe can bring, the exercising of it must be continual. As humans we are prone to immediately allow the complexities, the fears, and the struggle re-enter our lives even though we may have experienced an epiphany the evening before. This is also an abnormality with alcoholics and addicts that I will briefly explain. For those who have trouble understanding why an alcoholic continues drinking even though he wakes up in jail, is so hungover he can't get out of bed, or even after being institutionalized, why by any stretch of the imagination will he drink again? The overwhelming feeling of craving and the ensuing feeling that he will drink again completely renders any negative experience of its result helpless. As if this craving causes a complete lack of memory of how his drinking caused him to feel the day, week, or even month before. The reason I'm using this analogy is I think its relevant in how difficult it is to carry experiences forward in the conscious mind, even though in that moment, we realized its power. So it goes, continue with its practice daily for everything is fleeting.
The second, 'miraculous' or if you will psychic experience is a little strange, but I'm going to share it with you anyway, because it will inform some of my other thoughts. This morning, at about five thirty, I had a dream. In this dream, I was at Richard Nixon's house, looking in these large windows at his furniture, and wondering why I couldn't get him to answer the door. After I knocked repeatedly, I left, navigating myself down this very opulent spiral staircase. Now, let me give you some context. Late the night before, I finally watched the film, 'Milk'. I suppose it put my mind in some kind of political train of thought to channel the strange Nixon dream. Here's the capper, and the connection to the dream that I made. I got up, took Baby for a walk and checked my email. As I went to my Facebook page to check two messages, I checked the newsfeed page, and the first thing I saw of notice was an entry by a friend of mine, (I will keep her anonymity) who had just returned from San Clemente, (where Nixon lived the last years of his life). Now, you may think perhaps I'm going nuts in making these connections, and trust me, I don't consciously get obsessed with finding psychic signs out of trivial things, I only suggest that they are there, if we are in a mind to look for them. If these connections had not been compounded the way they were, I would have left my dream as it was, a strange. It was the words, 'San Clemente' that triggered in my subconscious the remembrance of this dream. What does it mean? That, I do not know, nor do I have a desire to sit and contemplate Nixon's presidency, I only bring it up because again, the odds of me dreaming this dream and making this 'waking life' connection to it first thing this morning is again, astronomical in anyone's estimation. I can explain it to you in an assembly of words, but the fact remains that 'I' experienced it, and as trite as it is, (I won't start a religion based on this) it happened. Maybe for no other reason that to say, "Hey, the universe, (or God) is acting in ways that are not out of the realm of reality. The universe doesn't have to break its rules venturing into 'divine intervention' to have deer show up at a swimming pool in a suburb. God doesn't have to break the laws of the universe to show you something connecting the subconscious with the conscious.
Now, the third is not so much a miracle as it is a directive that has been with me always. I know it started with my mother, who gave me the sound of a typewriter constantly alive in my mind, but also gave me much of her instruction by giving me books to read that were somehow always relevant to the situation I was in or by some strange coincidence the 'book I needed to read at that moment'. I was always amazed at her ability to do this. There didn't seem to be any real reason that she felt I needed this book at that particular time, still, in my experience, it was always a part of my life. When I was around seventeen or eighteen, she gave me 'The Idiot' by Dostoevsky, which literally changed how I thought. It was the first time I realized a 'christlike' figure without resorting to the notion of Jesus as the 'Christ'. (at that time he seemed more of an icon or symbol than a real person) Prince Myshkin was a kind of 'christ' I could wrap my mind around. I really think the many references and struggles with the 'christ' notion in my work are as much about this Dostoevsky character as any I received in 'church instruction'. If you want to change your view point of the world, I suggest this book. This brings me to 'Crime and Punishment' which I will discuss particulars another time, but I will say that its story is a perfect analogy of what I am experiencing. I can't even begin to compare myself to this character in the story, (and I'm not ready to murder anyone) but it does seem once again that she has given me this book to read at this time. (For those of you who have been following my blog you will remember my references to Keroac, and the exhaustive biography, 'Memory Babe'. That book was given to me by my mother some months before I read it. I read it at the exact moment I was experiencing the 'Keroacian' beginning of this current journey.
I feel exhilarated with this entry, and even though there is still some anger in my spirit, I am once again hopeful by the simple act of writing it down, thank you for listening, I need to get Baby out of her crate....