Tracing the Ice

 

The question arises sometimes, "what are we gonna do with all this time in heaven and also are we going to want to do it? " I mean eternity is a really long time, will we grow as individuals, and if so what do we grow into. We and everybody else are already eternal beings, but not really since we have starting points so we’re not eternal in the sense of going backwards but only eternal from this point forward, but it’s not really eternity if it’s not going backwards? It doesn’t really matter, a lot of questions don’t matter that I have, I mean they really don’t. Many of them do however, and I just have to trust that God‘s ways are higher than my ways, and someways we try to mollify the Scriptures to mean what we’d like them to me, even the most evangelical of Christians do this, or I should say even the most fundamental  Christians do this, I being one of them. I remember staying at this Airbnb one time hosted by this young girl, young girl meeting 25 years old or so, and telling her that I was a fundamentalist Christian. She seems surprised that I would say that and she said “you don’t seem very fundamentalist , and I simply explained that I really believed in the fundamentals of Christianity, God exists, Jesus died for my sins, Jesus rose from the dead and therefore defeated death, we receive him and then we go to heaven and if we reject him we go to hell . I didn’t even deal with the scenario where some people need to receive him nor reject him, that is a question that I only discuss with people who are learned enough to discuss it, or maybe I should say mature enough in Christ to discuss it, unless of course they bring it up  and then we have to talk about, “to whom does the blood of Christ apply.“ Regarding those people with whom I can speak about this, I can also speak about other things, D percent backspace delete delete delete, as you can probably tell I’m trying to verbally, audibly  delete the reference to “D percent”, which supposed to of been “deeper things”.

 I must be slurring my words. I was speaking with my friend Charlie Pierce the other day over the phone and he told me that when I talk it sounds like my lips are terribly swollen  which bothers me because my lips are not terribly swollen and also because I don’t really know Charlie well enough for him to say that to me, like what the heck? I digress. Many of the things I have to worry about or a little importance in the scheme of things, yeah I know I will worry about them  and yes they will bother me unless I shoot up into the air about 10 miles to gain perspective and then they become smaller, so I make a habit of shooting up into the air, I like it up there because it makes me feel like I’m above these little things , of course the problem is that I always have to go back down and deal with them but once I do I feel better while I’m dealing with them since I know that truly they are smaller than I had originally thought. 

We all know that life is really short, we acknowledge it intellectually and academically but only in death do we truly truly understand it, except I don’t think that’s really true because those who are really old understand it as well, the vaporness of it, and that’s my own fault since vaporness is not really a word. When someone dies that we truly treasure we are so so sad and people have always been sad when this is happened even the most righteous people in the Bible, like Jesus when Lazarus died. Yeah we know them and it’s such a short time until we will see them again, although do we know that we all wish we will see them again ? In heaven we don’t know what our boundaries are or if there are any, but if there are maybe some of the people we’d like to see are beyond our boundaries, I don’t know why that would be true but you can’t really rule it out since we really don’t know  the specifics of having, because Paul said I has not seen nor ear heard what the Lord has in store for us, and he says it’s in a positive light, so we know it’s positive. And when he says heaven does it mean the first heaven in sequential terms  such as the one we experience immediately after we die or is it the heaven that we experience during the thousand year reign of Christ, or is it the heaven that we experience after Armageddon when there is a new heaven and new earth, do we as individuals change forms  as we pass through each of these habits, heavens? We know we change forms when we die and we go to the first sequential heaven heaven, but in a way we are operating right now in heaven once we’ve been translated into the kingdom of Christ which we have been when we were born again . In any case there are people here on earth that I love so much that I can’t wait to be in constant fellowship with them in heaven, for eternity, because I know I will never tire of them, because of their nature. Even in this life  my deepest joys have not been in trips to far away lands, or luxurious environments, or in making money, but in the deep fellowship with another human being, those are the times I can distinctly remember and cherish and as I said are my deepest joy in this life , and therefore could be one of the deepest joys in the next life as well. this is why I have no interest in moving somewhere in my retirement, some “nice warm place “, because I don’t really think it will add much to my overall happiness or enjoyment. Seems to be just a waste of time and money, and if my joy is truly dependent on my relationships there are certainly plenty to be had right here.I’ll add to this from time to time, maybe early each morning as I’m doing now.

Two

The interstate system as well as other highways were seeing a large number of hitchhikers, most of them male but with significant numbers of female as well. The direction of the traffic was east to west thanks to Kerouac’s book “On the Road,”  referencing his first trip from Paterson, New Jersey to California. Everyone wanted to be as cool as Dean Moriarty and Sal Paradise so off we went. My trip started in Elizabethtown Pennsylvania, north through New York, Boston, New Hamshire and Maine, over to New Brunswick province, east across Canada until I reached Prince Rupert in British Columbia, then south on a fishing vessel to Vancouver Island, across the Channel to Port Angeles, Washington and then down the 101 to Aberdeen where I remained for a few months. Unlike Sal and Dean I did not take any public transportation but the entire endeavor was via thumb.

I understand that the nature of this is writing is to portray my time in the communes, however, I would be remiss if I did not mention what happened during the journey to my first commune. The trip was a long one, 120 days in total, and normally a cross country trip should take 5 to 7 days. Hitchhiking adds some delay to be sure, but also as you run out of cash you have to stop, pick up a job, make a little cash, and head back out. Even if you don’t land a job there are times when people just invite you stay with them for awhile, especially if they deem you to be interesting in some way, which is why I tried to put on an interesting exterior, but seriously, how interesting can you be at 19? But your actual interest quotient isn’t what’s important when endearing yourself to others, it’s the perception of your interest quotient that matters. For example in 1973 a guitar and backpack would provide a nice interest base, add in a couple of books by Baba Ram Das, and play Dylan songs on the harmonica would help as well. Spice up your conversation with phrases and sentences that sound understandable but are really incomprehensible to the listeners as well as yourself. In other words sound deep, very few will call you on it saying they don’t understand and then just reply with something deeper.

For instance there was this commune called Marble Mount in Washington state, and one of the members, named Richard, a skinny long hair and righteous beard, dark complexion, who would hike up the mountain every day, naked, with his goat. When he came back down all the commune members would wait with bated breath for him to say something. Every time he would say something like, “the grass approaches the birds in beauty but not vice versa”, and send everyone in a lather debating the true meaning behind the words. Years later we found out that there was no meaning behind his sayings, he had just taken one too many hits of acid during his teenage years.

Then there was Bill in Kelowna BC who showed me much kindness as he spoke to me about Jesus. I don’t remember any of what he said, but I remember two things, Kindness and Jesus. That’s enough and on this trip that was enough.

Sometimes I was uneasy, feeling vulnerable to the elements, the people who picked me up, and in awe sleeping by the High School which was near the Bay of Fundy, where they have the highest tides in the world. Then there was The Swede and Rusty who found me in The Club bar playing guitar, and somehow they were impressed enough to offer me a job as a bricklayer, which I did for much of the summer there in Aberdeen Washington. Swede as a 70 year old ex con and murderer, which he admits, and Rusty was a 49 year old drunk who lived in the apartment next to Swede and looked like he was 80. They showed me the ropes in town, like going to the Salvation Army every night to eat a free dinner after the mandatory sermon, led by a different preacher each night. In retrospect that might have been using this as a test bed for up and coming ministers since if you made a mistake in your sermon you would only be affecting old homeless people who were well on there way to hell anyway. And me, but I never listened anyway, but did get some amusement out of the hecklers.

so swede said he would get me a job, as a bricklayer, which he did, putting a retaining wall around the top of the club Tavern. This was the same tavern that I had been playing at, and sweet taught me the ropes of laying brick, and pretty soon let me go out it alone. He also let me stay at his apartment building, first having me stay with Rusty, but then wanting me to move in with him because he said Rusty was as queer as a $11 bill. So I moved in with Rusty  for a while but he never did anything, and then was Swede who taught me how to cook, I remember his instructions like it was yesterday, “take everything you can find out of the refrigerator and put it in a pot, the biggest pot you can fight, fill the rest up with water and boil the piss out of it . I swear to you my sister, these were his words verbatim. And so I did, and I experienced glee because I now knew how to cook. Chicken, vegetables, mustard, noodles, rice, avocados, ketchup, everything in the pot, put the lid on it, Take it to its full boil, then down to medium , take a nap, and boil the piss out of it, I never knew cooking could be so easy.

After my stint in Aberdeen I decided to head south on I-5 and there, at the intersection of US 101 and I-5 I ran into a fellow hitchhiker named Greg Semple, and it quickly became apparent that we were soul mates, and had a lot in common in that we were both headed to the same place, which was nowhere. That was a euphoric place, not because of how it looked but how it felt. Nowhere was basically the same as Everywhere and being Everywhere all the time was ecstasy. Everyone needs to try it, as did we. Over a casual conversation on the highway we decided to switch directions on a whim and head to Montana where Greg knew some truly farout people in Missoula. So off we went, and I’ll never forget the night we spent under the stars near Courdelane Idaho on I 90, cold but warm in our sleeping bags talking under the most brilliant display of stars, discussing the concept of eternity, and if not eternity then the great wall that would surround the cosmos, and what was behind that wall, and if nothing then the wall must be eternal. This went on until we dozed off, then arrived in Missoula the next day.

I loved the town, with the hippies in full display, women breastfeeding their kids out in the open, no cover, and then smoking Opium with the Catholic Priest . The dusty hills in the background and the knowledge that this was Montana meant a lot to someone who just a few short months ago had never left the state of New Jersey.

We weren’t there very long, maybe a week, and then headed back to a small commune where Greg’s friends lived. I don’t think it was really a commune, just a group of friends living together in the woods, greg, Micki, her main squeeze Carl, another guy I can’t remember, and now me. I don’t remember too much about what the house look like, but the wooded area was gorgeous, and I remember making my own bread, completely from scratch, and when I say completely I mean I was grinding the green I hand and making my own flower, so I can make whatever kind of flower I want it and the bread was otherworldly. Everyone loved it including Micki.

In time  Micki  and I started to enjoy our conversations, and the bonding began. I remember when I had to start looking for a job, Mickey cut my hair, then stepped back and exclaimed, “you’ll get a job for sure now because you look like a college kid”, and started laughing her head off. She didn’t do a bad job at all, but it was kind of funny, I did look like a college kid, because I should’ve been in college anyway at 19 years old. in time Carl got agitated about our relationship, and I was warned by greg‘s friend that I should be careful because Carl was watching. But we never did anything, so I pretty much ignored it. The  came the Sauna.

The next night was a crisp autumn outing, and in the early evening while still light we built a sauna hut with alder branches and blankets.

This was during the early summer so I was able to pick up a few jobs to replenish the 90 dollars I had set out with, working as a brick layer in Aberdeen and a few months later, a tree planter in Eugene, Oregon. This last job paid decent money, but after a few weeks of work it snowed in the mountains, shutting down all planting, and putting me out of work. I could no longer live in my motel room so I started walking north up 19^th street in Eugene when a Lighthouse Ranch Van of Jesus Freaks, (and yes they were classic Jesus Freaks, psychedelic van and clothing, all excited about who knows what), jumped out and started witnessing to me. I didn’t mind because they were entertaining, and when asked to pray I simply said I was already a Christian, like many others do to just shut them up. Kind of like saying you already gave at the office. This was not really a lie because back in Elizabethtown College I did say the sinner’s prayer with this guy named Rick.

By the time I arrived at college Rick was already a Christian, and looked the part in that he was one of the only guys with short hair. He was well known on the campus, and had the reputation for being ‘a really far out dude before his salvation.” Everyone knew Rick, partly because many of the cool people were his friend before Jesus showed up, but now he was of no use to them, and philosophically was anathema. I imagine he made new friends by leading them to Christ, and then they would get each other. He was a confident fellow but I don’t remember him being that convincing as he spoke to me and my girlfriend, but apparently convincing enough to leading my girlfriend and I in the sinners prayer. I’m not going to say we were insincere but our repentance only lasted a few hours until we were back to normal. In any case, for whatever reason, I considered myself a believer of some sort which became convenient with the folks from Lighthouse Ranch wanted to convert me.

As we talked there on the sidewalk on 19^th street, I mentioned that at the moment I don’t need salvation, but my treeplaning job had shut down and now I  could use some food and shelter and asked if they knew where I could get a job. Since they were from Eureka, California I didn’t think they would know, but surprisingly they pointed north and said that Shiloh had treeplanting work, and I could probably get something there since they were a Christian commune.

I walked north to the corner of 19^th and University and there was the big white house with the Shiloh sign, and a Mr Bob Grenier was standing out front. As he saw me walking towards the house, he approached, shook my hand and said Hi, my name is Bob. He was a good looking guy, full beard but not long, and his black hair was shortly cropped yet over his ears as would be the style 10 years later. He introduced me to the commune, and also to the house Pastor, Tom Reams and his wife Patti. They said that they could not only feed me and give me a place to stay for a few days but that I should also consider Serving The Lord there since I was a Christian and they were confident that God had led me there, and therefore this was God’s will for me, and therefore to do anything else would not be God’s will and that is not a good place to be.

Now normally I would have considered this nonsense but after living on the road for four months at the age of 19, I was a mix of superstitious, fearful, vulnerable, and so on. Therefore I said I would try it out and stay for week, and make a commitment later on. Bob and Tom seemed fine with that, and showed me to the brother’s room which slept about 100 brothers in rows of sleeping bags, and so I layed mine out in an open spot as bag 101.

The house was a beehive, buzzing with praise the lord type Christians, and in the evening we had a meal, singing time, and a bible study. The singing was mesmerizing, with great guitar players and singers, but much of the attraction was the group singing dynamic of the brothers and sisters at the event. (The sisters lived across the street on University street. ) Everyone was friendly, but also interesting, but the Bible Study was remarkable for reasons I can’t remember. It happened to be given by John Higgins, who I had never heard of but it turns out that he was currently the leader of the largest Jesus commune in the United States, the one I was currently in, called Shiloh.

After a few days I agreed to go to work with the brothers, traveling into the Cascade mountains every day at five thirty to plant Douglass Firs, thinking it would be similar to my previous job with the US Forest service where the US inspectors would smoke dope with us as we road into the hills. This contract that the Shiloh had was with Weyerhauser however, not the government and therefore the inspectors actually cared about how we planted the trees. Also, we got paid by the tree and since we were Christians now we could not just throw bundles of trees off the cliffs. I had thought I was a good planter, but now I was one of the worst because my trees were required to be planted properly, strait up and down, with no bend in the root. Most planters could plant at least a thousand a day, but the most I could manage was 700 to 800. It didn’t matter regarding pay since it was a commune and we never saw a cent anyway since it all went to the commune, but still it was a serious matter of pride. All the cool planters could easily do a thousand, and it made me feel bad.

Somewhere near the beginning of November of 73 there would be the formation of the teams, which were groups of 8 to 10 individuals who would be sent out to start a new commune somewhere in the United States. This was an exciting time for all, somewhat because nobody had any say into who was placed onto which team, with whom, under which pastor, and unto which city. Everything was a secret until the day was announced, including whether you would be placed on a team at all, since you needed to be a ‘proven’ brother or sister in order to make the cut and only about 30% would make it. Since I had been there only a week or two, and showed no special promise it was unlikely that me or those of my ilk would be assigned, nevertheless every one was excited.

The fateful Bible Study came , as the teams were announced, and since I was so new I didn’t know most of the names, but just a few.

 

Evanston Illiois – Jerry Vasquez

East Lansing Michigan – Gene Camarata

Houston, TX – Dan Leslie

Jacksonville, FL – Helen

Syracuse, NY – Danny Coogle

Boston, MA – Don’t remember

As they announced the names there was a lot of hooting, and as they got to the end of the list, on the least attractive team, East Lansing, they announce Bill Snyder. Not so much hooting since nobody really knew who I was, and those who did thought it was a clerical error since I certainly wasn’t proven in any sense of the word. I had only been in the commune a couple of weeks, did not speak Christianese, never said Praise the Lord, didn’t speak in tongues, was an awful tree planter, and wasn’t even that much of a hippie. Maybe because I played the guitar, but I was truly terrible at it, more of a chord banger than anything else.

While at the time I was unknown the novelty of what had happened made the rounds and pretty soon I was a minor celebrity in the commune, having been selected for a team after just a short time. I too would have thought more of it if the destination had been a bit more glamourous, of if the team was not so sterile, with just eight males. In addition, I would be the low man on the pole, with the top of the pole being the pastor, followed by the head deacon, followed by two or three deacons, with me sharing the cellar with Nick Gebelt, Rich Nicola. (Rich was the guy with the goat at Marble Mount. By this time he was outed as just another guy who had taken one too many hits of LSD. And now for my own trip…

The treasure was attractive for it’s abundance of attributes , but spiritual strength was near the front of the pack.

Everything is amplified now, all my relationships, every conversation after church, each sentence by the pastor spawning a billion stars of thought and those in turn doing the same. I am on the other side now, recovering but somehow whole.  And this place is wild, and could be more wild if i want it that way. i sense it is temporary but i hope it’s permanent, yet if permanent then how can i supply the energy? I need to get younger. Or at least gain the illusion of youth, and I’m pretty good at acquiring illusions. When i had first started my business my accountant would tell me that i had too many grandiose plans and that i needed to settle on one, maybe two. They weren’t plans at all but visions which is a not too distant cousin of Illusion. 

I stood in the foyer after church, just standing there, awkward yet with purpose. And then I started hugging people, people i have never hugged before, and it wasn’t awkward at all, in fact i sensed they loved it or at least liked it, you can just tell, and if I am forced by whatever to give a side hug and rather give non at all. I know people give them in Christian circles but i still think they’re weird and actually make you think more about whatever you’re trying to avoid. If i thought they might think it weird i added Happy New Year, to mask it, forgetting that last Sunday was New Years and thereforr i’d already said it, making strange even stranger, and you know what? I didnt care. nor did they. I’m just going to start full hugging everyone and see what happens.

. my life seems 1000 time brighter, but my maturity level has taken a serious hit. Who cares? And I’m looking forward to church tonight, the Sunday night service, and i must tell you, THAT is a first. Oh I have gone before, but out of sheer obedience, but never, until today, desire. 

I just got off the phone with Anne Dowden after two hours of delightful deep .conversation. Anne is 92 and lives in a different world than I, raised as a poor black daughter of a sharecropper in rural Virginia , beaten and overworked when her Dad died when she was 5. She could see the moon through the hole in the ceiling, but thought everyone had this hole in their roof. In my family we refer to her as our angel, and while she’s primarily my Dad’s friend , she calls me on occasion to talk to me since my Dad cant here. She loves my Dad. My Dad loves her. Race is no barrier to love even when one is somewhat racist.My Dad is not a Christian. Anne Dowden is. I need to be that strong Christian for her, since she has had enough disappointment, and I could not stand the thought of adding to it. 

The relationship started out with Anne serving my Dad when my step mother , Mary, started dying. She would come over every day, from The Agency, to help with Mary, my precious (i use that word a lot lately) stepmother, who was dying of Alzheimers (sp?) . This way my dad could take a break sometimes to get groceries, cut grass or whatever. Sometimes she would come over just so my Dad (Bill) could go fishing in the boat or hunting . She knew he loved the outdoors, especially Fishing and Trapping. For many months she did this, asking for more hours, not for the money but because she loved the work BECAUSE she loved my dad. 

Mary passed away, but Dad and Anne stayed in touch, and in one of many heartfelt conversations my Dad, knowing the enormous hours she put in at The Agency in Dad’s behalf, asked , “ I you don’t mind me asking Anne, how much did The Agency pay you?”

“Why they didn’t pay me at all Bill”, she replied, “ I was a volunteer.”   

So he could go fishing!!! Oh what that ignited in those two humans on the desolate Eastern Shore of Virgina.

After marrying Mary in 1992 they moved to Parksley VA. Therefore i have a long history with Virginia but not the real Virgina, west of the western shore.

So I called Dad tonight and told him that Anne said she was In Love With Him, which she did, and he laughed and said, “Well lets pack up the truck, pick her up right now and move to Florida together.” I know he laughed but why not. At least he knows that Anne doesn’t just love him, which he already knew, but that she is IN Love with him. I hope to see Anne this summer or sooner, our angel. All Snyders are impetuous. Except my brother Jimmy, and it’s a good thing because he’s a doctor. 

Would the Anne Dowden story be considered an ode? I’ll google it. Ok, not an ode, which is good since i’ve been told to stay away from them, but most people i ignore, but some, as in this case, i deeply respect so it’s serious. My writing is deteriorating to the point where meaning is being lost so I’ll try to adjust. It is copied. In the morning. On Caffeine. So much to say now. Now? Ha..

maybe the coffee will fix me, at least for a half hour. No sleep last night, no thoughts of sadness but thoughts of joy will keep you up as well, I suppose, because it happened last night. Unfortunately fatigue is the result of both, although one has a more pleasant disposition than the other. I will be helping a woman this morning with her taxes, reducing her tax liability and her exemptions in reverse order, and try and apply this love right through the fatigue. I imagine it’s a lot harder that way but there is no choice, I hate canceling on people , it can be such a disappointment, and a disappointment is almost veiled to some degree by the person Receiving the cancellation. If it’s veiled to a small degree, no problem, but if it’s veiled to a large degree that’s not good. except now I seem to have a ability to see through those wells, through those veils, but I don’t like it so I almost never cancel, maybe a pride thing, may be a love thing, maybe proud that i love thing, o wretched man, you would think I’d be able to understand my own heart by now, and if not by now then when? see, I’m too tired to correct the obvious mistakes above, it should not say “see through those wells, but through those valves, not valves, veils! Am I slurring my words like Charlie Pierce accuse me of? Maybe it’s my accent which some people think I still have, but I don’t think it’s an accent, I think it has to do with the meter of my speech and somewhat with my vernacular. In any case I think my voice is just fine. Backspace, that’s the least of my worries.

there’s a movie called, “being John Malkovich“, which is about being another person, in this case Jon, for a short period of time. See what they see, hear what they hear, and most importantly, feel what they feel. Right now, that’s what I want, but I don’t want it for a short time as in the movie, but for protracted time, and because of that I will guard whatever needs to be guarded to make that happen.

My Dad’s mother Florence, I called her Nana, everyone 

else called her a pistol, sharp acid tongue, thin, thin face, entertaining, talkative, and I loved her deeply, and she made no bones about it that I was her favorite, which was not smart, but i loved it. I remember i could tell her me deepest darkest thoughts and she would never criticize or act surprised butjust take

it in. You know someone loves you when you can share every weird, wicked, or awkward thing you’ve ever done and they remain nonplussed, but actually love you more. In music, when you play a note outside of the key signature, a wrong note, sharp or flat, it will usually sound like a wrong or faulty key. But sometimes that ‘fault’ adds a poignant, soulful, aura to the piece making it other wordly beautiful. It’s a mystery but it is, and maybe God sees us that way. I think Nana thought that way when I confided in her, only her, that i had this scary urge, when on high buildings, to jump off and experience the short flight. Her response without hesitation, “well Billy, you just have to be strong, and have will power.” That was it, it was enough, we never talked about it again, and ate we each ate another donut.

Nana had that “That”, which very few have and it endeared people to her, her caustic nature notwithstanding, yet another miracle.

The compulsion never returned.We should commit while we are strong and have that commitment carry us through our weakness.

And now that the stars are Spawning other stars, I want to go away to a shack somewhere, doesn’t matter where, except that I’m alone, and write forever. Actually there is such a shack On Island Beach State Park, just south, about 7 miles, from Seaside Park New Jersey. I have access to that shack anytime I want, and it’s a great privilege, a privilege with a long story, but I would name “the shack”, except it’s already been 

❤️ 

My mind is blank, odd feeling, maybe I should eat. The week is packed with hurting people, and no time to help them, with the big weekend coming up in Punta Cana. Apprehensive about everything, but i just need to relax. I’ve been to the Dominican before when down to Haiti in 2010. The hurting people, Jesus flowing through me , loving them, it never occurred that maybe the love that some may have for me is from God as well. Maybe there’s something wrong that I haven’t experienced it the way other people seem to. I will read the four loves, and the problem of pain. Now the week is compressed, with three days to get 1 million things done, I guess it’s happened before, it’ll happen again, and it’s happening now. I have some apologies to make this week to various individuals who might have let down. nobody has said anything but they will, I’d rather beat them to it with the apology.

Some of the best Christians I have ever met or in Haiti, not the Haitians themselves, but the people that we worked with in the organization called global something, global orphanage, global outreach I don’t know, global something. Such a loving group of people, most of them are independently wealthy, I just gave their lives to helping the orphans of Haiti.

and now back to the fundamentals… I felt better after eating half the remaining jam, we think we are all grown up, and we are, but just children who have grown, seems like i still retain some of the habits of a five year old, maybe because the habits never hurt me and because i was happy. All options are open to you at five, even though you don’t think in those terms but you sense it. 

It is said that if you get writers block that you should not just sit there , but write, something, anything, and maybe something good will happen.Ah, i know, tea, i will drink tea!

Ok, fundamentals, am I Everyman?  On the way back from the Trojan victory Ulysses had to be tied to the mast, to resist the Sirens song, since the wax was only in the ears of the oarsman. It worked because he purposed in his heart that it would work, made a plan, and executed it. This later became known as the Ulysses Pact, a scheme i use to commit to things when i’m strong and execute them later if and when i’m weak, which i mentioned earlier. 

The problem with the sirens was not that they were mean when you were drawn by their song, but that they were beautiful and so beautiful that you could do nothing but behold them, and would starve to death because you couldn’t pull away. Hunger was hidden by Love. Too much Love. 

6:26 AM

“My son, attend to my words; Incline thine ear unto my sayings. Let them not depart from thine eyes; Keep them in the midst of thine heart. For they are life unto those that find them, And health to all their flesh. Keep thy heart with all diligence; For out of it are the issues of life.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭4‬:‭20‬-‭23‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Walk in the light while it is day because there will be darkness and you’ll need that light to carry you through dark nights. Simple yet I will hold onto it. Sleep was good, seems like my life mirrors another’s. Maybe a coincidence, i shouldn’t try to make everything either mystical or spiritual, there still is Mr Natural always there with plenty of the mundane in his satchel. 

Nonetheless, we live in a spiritual world, more real than the natural, by virtue of its permanence.I see the letters on the page forming the words appearing on the page and my heart leaps yet again, as if I’m standing in the middle of a soul, as an invited guest, the highest honor in the kingdom.

Again, “Let thine eyes look right on, And let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, And let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left: Remove thy foot from evil.”

‭‭

Strengthen me. Love me, and I know you do but I want to experience your love, not just flowing through me but directed at me. Not because I want to feel like other Christians say they feel, but to have the purest, intended relationship that exists. I was told that that is the whole point. Have i missed the whole point for so long? And when this happens it will illuminate all as a byproduct, whereas before this illumination of others was primary. It is not.

So could it be that this recent infusion if from God Himself, directed through his loving child?Whai do know is that if i stay in His word my path will be lit, like in Psalms 119. The answers will come, no need to fret just because they are absent now. Rest in His love and in her love while you have it.  No need to be anxious, we can learn to live side by side with ambiguity without getting all wigged out. No need to do anything, impress anyone, say anything or write anything, just rest… in love, letting it do a myriad of works, healing, strength, confidence, joy, and many more.

Soon, as in later today, i will need to grow up, and do the things that men do, but for now, I’m five, and feel like I’m being held, somehow, my soul is being held in the most loving way that is allowed, almost infinite, which if you think about it, is also infinite, ie. Infinity - 1 is still Infinity. 

I will write it all. From the beginning. With all 8 kinds of Love. And those three words which were falsely called stupid vibrate as a double entendre in my center. 

Tie me to the mast, bind me with strong cords, make sure that my cunning allows no escape, i have committed in my strength that which I must and will execute in my weakness. I have a continual state of weakness interrupted by brief interludes of strength Which is better than no strength at all, since I can use the narrow time of strength to make my Vows, that will carry me through the next plateau. I’m making too much of this by bringing Homer into it. I just need to calm down and shut up. i’ll finish the last chapter of the book about rest and then the pain book. And eat a tiny bit of jam. Did i say i would shut up? 

 The small girl talked about obedience tonight. God was implicit. To make sure you do. Tonight. It’s why i go to church, no i don’t just go to hear but to give but 

tonight it was to receive. And i did.There was a woman in the park that wanted me to know the point of my faith. And she gave nothing? Nothing except the meaning of my existence. 

I need to tamp down my critical heart regarding the church, it makes me sick of myself sometimes, yet i continue, and i would list what i mean by crticize here  but that would actually be criticism itself in a backhanded way. Maybe i’ve been here too long but no, now is the time to lead. I hate rote things, and resist it but with too much disgust, but disgust is a visceral animal, it just shows up and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

The lover of my soul cares for my entirety and makes my sleep sweet. 

People need to be led, and most want to be led. Step up, and lead in word and deed in reverse order. I know this is dull, i’m putting myself to sleep. Do no harm and don’t fly to close to the sun, because by the time you realize it it’s too late. 

I gave it all away due to an involuntary invisible flinch. All iremember was a slight shudder in my depths. And thought less of myself becuse of it. And now i have to read Hitchikers guide to the universe to unlock her code. I’m sure ther’s a smarter way, nobody would mke me work that hard, except one Author. After reading the first of a lifetime of chapters i have given up on eloquence because mine does not compare so why bother. 

But there is the next life, which we will both obtain. And we will find a forest, with a river, and then a wooden bench, not gold but oak, without the restriction of time, and sit, and rest, in an intimacy way beyond anything physical. I would gladly pay any price here. Learn from Esau. Don’t risk the blessing for the soup.

It seems that we want to be completely seen, known.  I will work hard to solve the puzzle, and earn it. It feels better to earn it than to have it handed to you. Unless you’re super fatigued because ruminations want to converse all night, ruminations spawned during the light of day.

And remember, the plot is only the canvass, your expression and tangent thoughts, deep thoughts, are the beauty.

 .

we are now hatching dreams.   

i like to make characters conflicted, so many are neither good or evil, but capable of both, depending on a number of external influences, fears, alcohol, hunger, i mean theres a basic trajectory but bumps along the way that are mostly minor but some major

 writers eventually find a sweet spot in their day, a time where sparks fly more than others, mine being 9:30 to 11. short window but we take what we’re given. Same with moods and time of day, ebbs and flows, like the ocean tides, driven by the moon.  

i’m filling the part about the trip of 73