I read this the other day in a book I've been poking around in called Astrology: A Cosmic Science. Despite all my strange beliefs I've been going on about in this site, I'm not a big follower of astrology. I find it interesting, curious, and wonder what it is those devout astrologers are looking at when they profess the things they profess, but I wouldn't put my stock in it. Never-the-less, I do find it interesting to poke through.
Its filled with interesting concepts, such as saying "where the kidney's are the purifier of the body, relationships are the purifier of the consciousness" explaining how "no man can be an island". Toward the back of the book there was an allegory that I really liked and I figured I'll copy it down here for your consideration.
An Allegory
"I leaned from the low-hung crescent moon and grasping the west pointing horn of it, looked down. Against the other horn reclined, motionless, a Shining One and looked at me, but I was unafraid. Below me the hills and valleys were thick with humans, and the moon swung low that I might see what they did.
"Who are they?" I asked the Shining One. For I was unafraid. And the Shining One made answer: "They are the Sons of God and the Daughters of God."
I looked again, and saw that they beat and trampled each other. Sometimes they seemed not to know that the fellow-creature they pushed from their path fell under their feet. But sometimes they looked as he fell and kicked him brutally.
And I said to the Shining One: "Are they ALL the Sons and Daughters of God?"
And the Shining One said: "ALL."
As I leaned and watched them, it grew clear to me that each was frantically seeking something, and that it was because they sought what they sought with such singleness of purpose that they were so inhuman to all who hindered them.
And I said to the Shining One: "What do the seek?"
And the Shining One made answer: "Happiness."
"Are they all seeking Happiness?"
"All."
"Have any of them found it?"
"None of those have found it?"
"Do they ever think they have found it?"
"Sometimes they think they have found it?"
My eyes filled, for at that moment I caught a glimpse of a woman with a babe at her breast, and I saw the babe torn from her and the woman cast into a deep pit by a man with his eyes fixed on a shining lump that he believed to be (or perchance to contain, I know not) Happiness.
And I turned to the Shining One, my eyes blinded.
"Will they ever find it?"
And He said: "They will find it."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
"Those who are trampled?"
"Those who are trampled."
"And those who trample?"
"And those who trample."
I looked again, a long time, at what they were doing on the hills and in the valleys, and again my eyes went blind with tears, and I sobbed out to the Shining One:
"Is it God's will, or the work of the Devil, that men seek Happiness?"
"It is God's will."
"And it looks so like the work of the Devil."
The Shining One smiled inscrutably.
"It does look like the work of the Devil."
When I had looked a little longer, I cried out, protesting: "Why has he put them down there to seek Happiness and to cause each other such immeasurable misery?"
Again the Shinging One smiled inscrutably: "They are learning."
"What are they learning?"
"They are learning Life. And they are learning Love."
I said nothing. One man in the herd below held me breathless, fascinated. He walked proudly, and others ran and laid the bound, struggling bodies of living men before him that he might tread upon them and never touch foot to earth. But suddenly a whirlwind seized him and tore his purple from him and set him down, naked among strangers. And they fell upon him and maltreated him sorely.
I clapped my hands.
"Good! Good!" I cried, exultantly. "He got what he deserved."
Then I looked up suddenly, and saw again the inscrutable smile of the Shining One.
And the Shining One spoke quietly. "They all get what they deserve."
"And no worse?"
"And no worse."
"And no better?"
"How can there be any better? They each deserve whatever shall teach them the true way to Happiness."
I was silenced.
And still the people went on seeking, and trampling each other in their eagerness to find. And I perceived what I had not fully grasped before, that the whirlwind caught them up from time to time and set them down elsewhere to continue the Search.
And I said to the Shining One: "Does the whirlwind always set them down again on these hills and in these valleys?"
And the Shining One made answer: "Not always on these hills or in these valleys."
"Where then?"
"Look above you."
And I looked up. Above me stretched the Milky Way and gleamed the stars.
And I breathed "Oh" and fell silent, awed by what was given to me to comprehend.
Below me they still trampled each other.
And I asked the Shining One.
"But no matter where the Whilrwindsets them down, they go on seeking Happiness?"
"They go on seeking Happiness."
"And the Whilrwind makes no mistakes?"
"The Whilrwind makes no mistakes."
"It puts them sooner or later, where they will get what they deserve?"
"It puts them sooner or later where they will get what they deserve."
Then the load crushing my heart lightened, and I found I could look at the brutal cruelties that went on below me with pity for the cruel. And the longer I looked the stronger the compassion grew.
And I said to the Shining One:
"They act like men goaded."
"They are goaded."
"What goads them?"
"The name of the goad is Desire."
Then, when I had looked a little longer, I cried out passionately: "Desire is an evil thing."
But the face of the Shining One grew stern and his voice rang out, dismaying me.
"Desire is not an evil thing."
I trembled and thought withdrew herself into the innermost chamber fo my heart. Till at last I said: "It is Desire that nerves men on to learn the lessons God has set."
"It is Desire the nerves them."
"The lessons of Life and Love?"
"The lessons of Life and Love!"
Then I could no longer see that they were cruel. I could only see that they were learning. I watched them with deep love and compassion, as one by one the whirlwind carried them out of sight.
- Anonymous - "
The book I found this in is Astrology: A Cosmic Science; pg. 278-80, by Isabel M. Hickey
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Beginning to Process That Which is 2009
I’m sitting back home, once more, in Massachusetts. This has certainly been a year of many returns. Returns home here, returns home to NYC, returns home to Denver. All of the above, as well as many sojourns forward to visit old and long neglected friends. It’s been a weird and intense year in a host of different ways, and now I’m finding myself needing a little processing time.
So, as I mentioned above, I find myself back in Massachusetts running my mind through all that’s happened in the last place I’d have foreseen being back in January when I decided to leave. Being here in Stacey’s home is, in itself, a comfort and sanctuary for me now. The rediscovery of her friendship reflects a great many of the other old and new friends I’ve recovered this year, which, truly, has ended up being the heart of this Adventure of ‘09. The spirits of each of them hover about me tonight as I’ve finally sat down to process it all in this house.
The house itself is a home; cozy, snug, and filled with the life of hanging plants, Lucy, and Luca; the dog and cat. Outside there’s a good dose of thick wet snow and a dripping storm complete with occasional lightening, just as I had growing up. Clearly I’m feeling nostalgic as I plop all this down and I’ll try to pull my head out of it a bit to not get mired in sentimental sappiness, which I often succumb to.
I’m looking out over next year as it meanders up the front walk to me. It looks a bit intense, as I get the feeling that this year was yet another practice run; a testing out of the gear and methods in a sense. I’ve been jarred into having to recognize that I’m one of those people that has shut out their childhood, and my past in general, and it took the hulking mass of this year to recognize it and begin to reclaim it.
I watched a preview for a movie tonight about an Indian guy born in New York who shuns his Indian heritage, feeling like he has no part to it, and begins Americanizing himself in the name of claiming modernity. I never found myself able to click with these sorts of plot lines since it seemed like it was all about shallow characters trying to out run their pasts. Seeing that preview tonight, though, coupled with my feeling of nostalgia as I revisit the events of this year, I realized I have quite a bit in common with these guys.
Granted, I never needed to change my name to accustom myself to a culture, I’ve always enjoyed being an American (despite the massive amounts of negativity that comes with it) and, as I’m often reminded, have all the benefits-by-birth that come with it. I’m white, male, Christian raised, Anglican first, middle, and last name, not fat or ugly, not impaired in any way, physically or financially, and raised in a town acclaimed for its public education. The irony of all this is that this was what I had to come to terms with and accept finally this year. All this in light now at the end of this year, I've come to review my experiences with good fortune and how to wield it.
I’ve written at length my experience with money this year. It’s been a fascinating study on the world and its workings, and continues to be. Money continued to dependably show up at the times I would have feelings that it would as I drifted along catching rides and meeting up with these friends. It was consistent from July until October as I rode “the zero mark” up and down from Denver to Port Townsend, to San Francisco, to Massachusetts, and finally to New York then off to Europe. My accessible money would hit zero in my pocket then a job would show up, or someone would hand me $40 or $100. Others simply didn’t allow me to pay for anything as I tried to offer buying them lunch for the ride.
This to me was a phenomenon, but one I’d experienced before and through out life, so when I got on the plane to Iceland and then London in November with £6.36 and $124.00for two and a half weeks, where the American dollar is worth two thirds its value here in the States, I didn’t think much of it. I was convinced something would work out, somehow money would continue to show up for me as it had and all would continue to be well. This was, in many regards, a spiritual belief, and still continues to be.
My first day abroad I spent in Reykjavik, Iceland as a day long layover I provided for myself with some finagly ticket buying. Within 24 hours of being there my $124.00 was spent, though $104 of it was blown on credit card as I tucked the American cash away for my landing. Being that this was a spiritual belief I was very aware to read the signs I was being given and see that the bulk of those funds was for a private cab driver I had to pay to get me to the airport after narrowly missing the last bus by fifteen minutes. I took this to be telling me bluntly that I was going to be taken for everything I had, savings and all, and that I needed to start shifting this view on leaning on fate's ATM.
As I said before, my “zeros” were always from my accessible cash. I had locked up other money in gold and silver, both physical gold coins and silver bars as well as shares. When I did this back in March, and again in August, I had a feeling those reserves wouldn’t last the year and back then had thought sometime in the last three months I’d likely be selling them. I figured that this must be that time and was able to relax. I was taking my cues, right or wrong, from these feelings that it was time for the reserves to go and from my major lesson in October to not stress any situation, relax and work with it, and everything will come out fine.
I saw my friend Jane in London for a few days, then met my grandmother’s cousin, Morag, in Wells, on my way to spending a few days in Cornwall where I met a really amazing guy named Rob who put me up for two nights. After that I ventured over to Paris where I had coffee with Ingrid’s sister, Erica, who has now become a French citizen. I spent the night at a Couch Surfer’s place, Elsa, who took me out to the pubs to watch France controversially beat Ireland in qualifying for the World Cup against Algeria. The next day I took a commuter rail out of the city and spent the next two days hitching to Soissons and Lille as a foreigner who didn’t speak the language.
From Lille I took a train to Amsterdam and spent a few nights hanging out with Brandon, Loreli’s boyfriend, who was out there from Denver as her birthday present to him. Then I raced back to Paris and London to catch my flight through Iceland back to NYC. On the way out of Iceland I watched a four hour sunset as the plane chased it down. When I landed in NYC the day before Thanksgiving I had only my $104 in cash that I’d tucked away and a credit card debt exceeding a thousand dollars. By that Saturday night I had 75 cents.
No, this isn’t a random rant to explain where my money ran away to, or to complain about it. As I said before, I took that initial cab ride as a direct sign that Europe would suck me dry and I should start working on figuring out why this would happen after such reliability from the Universe before. What I concluded has to do with the original statement that I started this rant about. I am not poor, I am not disadvantaged (as I am often reminded)… at least in America and therefore came to believe that I should not be relying on these so called Fates to cash me out when I'm low. It was a lesson to learn, I learned it, and now its on to the next step.
It beckoned me back to one of the old favorites in conversation that Todd and I have often batted about of the suburban kid and the good fortune that comes with it. If you’ve been reading along these blogs at all, whether just mine, just his, or both together, you’ll know that particularly in recent months we both have been intrigued by the Biblical phrase “It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle then for a rich man to get into heaven.” The essence of which I take to mean that a rich man is inherently doomed spiritually because to be rich is to have an excess of wealth and to have an excess of wealth while others still wallow in third world gutters is not in the spirit of Love. The most basic principle of Communism if you want to be politically obnoxious about it, but in essence a stark truth.
Todd has spent much of his retreat months vehemently attacking those who aren’t completely dedicating themselves to truth and self awareness as charlatan zombies suffering from hypocritical self delusion of purpose. I tend to be a little easier on those not willing to sell their mansions outright, or those still looking for a peace they haven’t fully attained yet, as I struggle with the notion that I too still hang on to many an unnecessary luxury item that could go to better use. I believe in massive progress being eventually made through baby steps. My frustration, however, tends to manifest when even those baby steps aren’t being taken. Even being paralyzed by fear is in some sense a baby step, in my view, so long as you are steadily trying to work toward overcoming that fear.
To go back to what I was saying before, this year has been quite good for me in the sense of recognizing that if I work toward something the Universe, in my very firm belief, will meet you half way, and help you along in those completely unpredictable ways. The key requisite seems to be not to lean on it and then you’ll do fine. That lesson has been an important one to learn, but I’ve learned it and now its time to move on and build on it. This is what I believe I was to learn in Europe, so I decided to reconstruct my strategy.
The week after I got back to the States the price of precious metals shot through the roof so I sold it all receiving just enough to bring myself back even again, plus a few extra bucks to move around on. Another safety net removed. With that I decided to return to the original idea of the financial end of this trip and see if I can sell some of the photographs I’ve taken along the way in galleries of any sort and if sales work out I can take care of myself as well as spread that money back out to where it came from this year. Who knows if it will work, but there’s nothing like trying it to see.
What I’ve noticed prominently from this year in the resurgence of old friends is the reconciliations that have come about. I went to my 15 year high school reunion about a week and a half ago and rediscovered a long since discarded close friend, Brian. In those tumultuous days of teenage drama I wrote Brian off after having a good five or six years of brotherhood-like friendship with him because I had thought he’d written me off for the more popular clans. I moved on and became best friends with his ex-girlfriend, Allyson, and quickly there after become obsessed with puppy dog love for her. Something that took me a good six years to get over once all was said and done.
As I discovered the other week when we ran into each other again, apparently this had kicked him in the proverbial nuts pretty bad as a back stab, and I learned that in fact I was the dick in that scenario. Fifteen years, and it’s a pretty simple observation, and I never even remotely saw it until two Saturdays ago.
I also had taken a trip out to Boston at the beginning of November to visit a long gone old friend, Josh, who was the original brother of mine from back in the elementary school days. He was one I lost touch with for ironically the same reason I thought Brian had ditched me; I moved on to more popular kids for my brief stint of popularity in 7th and 8th grade. In 9th grade I had no friends at all… literally. Josh was welcoming with open arms and we had a great visit geeking out about our G.I. Joe days in front of his fiancé, Kim.
Seeing these beginnings of possibly rekindled friendships, along with the massive ex-girlfriend tour that I took this year rekindling those relationships, I see two more such visits to make. One I’ve been planning on since I left Denver back in March, and that’s to see Allyson. Originally I just planned to see her because I haven’t seen her since her wedding in ’03, and now she has two kids I’m quite curious to get a look at. Now, however, I’m curious to know what might come out of that visit in light of these reconciliations. To put it in Todd’s beloved AA terms, I’m wondering what amends I may have there as well.
The other is one I really hadn’t expected, and only recently cropped up as something I think I should do. I have long lost touch with a very close friend from college, my friend Dave. He was another I had a brotherly type friendship with for a good four or five years but had a bad unspoken rift that ended all communication. I think its high time I reconcile it one way or the other before I think about pressing on with another adventure.
There actually is one more that I’m going to have to hunt down, and that’s my good friend Katy from Texas. She vanished a few years ago off the face of New Jersey (understandable, really) leaving no forwarding address of any sort and leaving behind her a bit of a mess to untangle with another mutual friend of ours. It’s my impression that that’s why she’s remained in seclusion from us, but I think its time to reconcile that one as well. Time has passed and good friendships always improve after a mess like that anyway, and as I discovered with Brian there could be a whole perspective of it I missed.
Either way, I can’t get over the density of this year which has finally knocked me off my feet into Stacey’s home. I’m now around the corner from my Dad for a few weeks while I’m here, and am able to drop in on him as I did today which has long been needed in our relationship. I feel this massive year long life reunion with everyone is solidifying a wide base that I am going to need in the coming years. I don’t know why, or for what, if for anything other than just simply having everyone back in my life again, but it gives me the feeling of being apart of a huge, ever widening, family. Kinda something I’ve been seeking for a good long while now.
So, as I mentioned above, I find myself back in Massachusetts running my mind through all that’s happened in the last place I’d have foreseen being back in January when I decided to leave. Being here in Stacey’s home is, in itself, a comfort and sanctuary for me now. The rediscovery of her friendship reflects a great many of the other old and new friends I’ve recovered this year, which, truly, has ended up being the heart of this Adventure of ‘09. The spirits of each of them hover about me tonight as I’ve finally sat down to process it all in this house.
The house itself is a home; cozy, snug, and filled with the life of hanging plants, Lucy, and Luca; the dog and cat. Outside there’s a good dose of thick wet snow and a dripping storm complete with occasional lightening, just as I had growing up. Clearly I’m feeling nostalgic as I plop all this down and I’ll try to pull my head out of it a bit to not get mired in sentimental sappiness, which I often succumb to.
I’m looking out over next year as it meanders up the front walk to me. It looks a bit intense, as I get the feeling that this year was yet another practice run; a testing out of the gear and methods in a sense. I’ve been jarred into having to recognize that I’m one of those people that has shut out their childhood, and my past in general, and it took the hulking mass of this year to recognize it and begin to reclaim it.
I watched a preview for a movie tonight about an Indian guy born in New York who shuns his Indian heritage, feeling like he has no part to it, and begins Americanizing himself in the name of claiming modernity. I never found myself able to click with these sorts of plot lines since it seemed like it was all about shallow characters trying to out run their pasts. Seeing that preview tonight, though, coupled with my feeling of nostalgia as I revisit the events of this year, I realized I have quite a bit in common with these guys.
Granted, I never needed to change my name to accustom myself to a culture, I’ve always enjoyed being an American (despite the massive amounts of negativity that comes with it) and, as I’m often reminded, have all the benefits-by-birth that come with it. I’m white, male, Christian raised, Anglican first, middle, and last name, not fat or ugly, not impaired in any way, physically or financially, and raised in a town acclaimed for its public education. The irony of all this is that this was what I had to come to terms with and accept finally this year. All this in light now at the end of this year, I've come to review my experiences with good fortune and how to wield it.
I’ve written at length my experience with money this year. It’s been a fascinating study on the world and its workings, and continues to be. Money continued to dependably show up at the times I would have feelings that it would as I drifted along catching rides and meeting up with these friends. It was consistent from July until October as I rode “the zero mark” up and down from Denver to Port Townsend, to San Francisco, to Massachusetts, and finally to New York then off to Europe. My accessible money would hit zero in my pocket then a job would show up, or someone would hand me $40 or $100. Others simply didn’t allow me to pay for anything as I tried to offer buying them lunch for the ride.
This to me was a phenomenon, but one I’d experienced before and through out life, so when I got on the plane to Iceland and then London in November with £6.36 and $124.00for two and a half weeks, where the American dollar is worth two thirds its value here in the States, I didn’t think much of it. I was convinced something would work out, somehow money would continue to show up for me as it had and all would continue to be well. This was, in many regards, a spiritual belief, and still continues to be.
My first day abroad I spent in Reykjavik, Iceland as a day long layover I provided for myself with some finagly ticket buying. Within 24 hours of being there my $124.00 was spent, though $104 of it was blown on credit card as I tucked the American cash away for my landing. Being that this was a spiritual belief I was very aware to read the signs I was being given and see that the bulk of those funds was for a private cab driver I had to pay to get me to the airport after narrowly missing the last bus by fifteen minutes. I took this to be telling me bluntly that I was going to be taken for everything I had, savings and all, and that I needed to start shifting this view on leaning on fate's ATM.
As I said before, my “zeros” were always from my accessible cash. I had locked up other money in gold and silver, both physical gold coins and silver bars as well as shares. When I did this back in March, and again in August, I had a feeling those reserves wouldn’t last the year and back then had thought sometime in the last three months I’d likely be selling them. I figured that this must be that time and was able to relax. I was taking my cues, right or wrong, from these feelings that it was time for the reserves to go and from my major lesson in October to not stress any situation, relax and work with it, and everything will come out fine.
I saw my friend Jane in London for a few days, then met my grandmother’s cousin, Morag, in Wells, on my way to spending a few days in Cornwall where I met a really amazing guy named Rob who put me up for two nights. After that I ventured over to Paris where I had coffee with Ingrid’s sister, Erica, who has now become a French citizen. I spent the night at a Couch Surfer’s place, Elsa, who took me out to the pubs to watch France controversially beat Ireland in qualifying for the World Cup against Algeria. The next day I took a commuter rail out of the city and spent the next two days hitching to Soissons and Lille as a foreigner who didn’t speak the language.
From Lille I took a train to Amsterdam and spent a few nights hanging out with Brandon, Loreli’s boyfriend, who was out there from Denver as her birthday present to him. Then I raced back to Paris and London to catch my flight through Iceland back to NYC. On the way out of Iceland I watched a four hour sunset as the plane chased it down. When I landed in NYC the day before Thanksgiving I had only my $104 in cash that I’d tucked away and a credit card debt exceeding a thousand dollars. By that Saturday night I had 75 cents.
No, this isn’t a random rant to explain where my money ran away to, or to complain about it. As I said before, I took that initial cab ride as a direct sign that Europe would suck me dry and I should start working on figuring out why this would happen after such reliability from the Universe before. What I concluded has to do with the original statement that I started this rant about. I am not poor, I am not disadvantaged (as I am often reminded)… at least in America and therefore came to believe that I should not be relying on these so called Fates to cash me out when I'm low. It was a lesson to learn, I learned it, and now its on to the next step.
It beckoned me back to one of the old favorites in conversation that Todd and I have often batted about of the suburban kid and the good fortune that comes with it. If you’ve been reading along these blogs at all, whether just mine, just his, or both together, you’ll know that particularly in recent months we both have been intrigued by the Biblical phrase “It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle then for a rich man to get into heaven.” The essence of which I take to mean that a rich man is inherently doomed spiritually because to be rich is to have an excess of wealth and to have an excess of wealth while others still wallow in third world gutters is not in the spirit of Love. The most basic principle of Communism if you want to be politically obnoxious about it, but in essence a stark truth.
Todd has spent much of his retreat months vehemently attacking those who aren’t completely dedicating themselves to truth and self awareness as charlatan zombies suffering from hypocritical self delusion of purpose. I tend to be a little easier on those not willing to sell their mansions outright, or those still looking for a peace they haven’t fully attained yet, as I struggle with the notion that I too still hang on to many an unnecessary luxury item that could go to better use. I believe in massive progress being eventually made through baby steps. My frustration, however, tends to manifest when even those baby steps aren’t being taken. Even being paralyzed by fear is in some sense a baby step, in my view, so long as you are steadily trying to work toward overcoming that fear.
To go back to what I was saying before, this year has been quite good for me in the sense of recognizing that if I work toward something the Universe, in my very firm belief, will meet you half way, and help you along in those completely unpredictable ways. The key requisite seems to be not to lean on it and then you’ll do fine. That lesson has been an important one to learn, but I’ve learned it and now its time to move on and build on it. This is what I believe I was to learn in Europe, so I decided to reconstruct my strategy.
The week after I got back to the States the price of precious metals shot through the roof so I sold it all receiving just enough to bring myself back even again, plus a few extra bucks to move around on. Another safety net removed. With that I decided to return to the original idea of the financial end of this trip and see if I can sell some of the photographs I’ve taken along the way in galleries of any sort and if sales work out I can take care of myself as well as spread that money back out to where it came from this year. Who knows if it will work, but there’s nothing like trying it to see.
What I’ve noticed prominently from this year in the resurgence of old friends is the reconciliations that have come about. I went to my 15 year high school reunion about a week and a half ago and rediscovered a long since discarded close friend, Brian. In those tumultuous days of teenage drama I wrote Brian off after having a good five or six years of brotherhood-like friendship with him because I had thought he’d written me off for the more popular clans. I moved on and became best friends with his ex-girlfriend, Allyson, and quickly there after become obsessed with puppy dog love for her. Something that took me a good six years to get over once all was said and done.
As I discovered the other week when we ran into each other again, apparently this had kicked him in the proverbial nuts pretty bad as a back stab, and I learned that in fact I was the dick in that scenario. Fifteen years, and it’s a pretty simple observation, and I never even remotely saw it until two Saturdays ago.
I also had taken a trip out to Boston at the beginning of November to visit a long gone old friend, Josh, who was the original brother of mine from back in the elementary school days. He was one I lost touch with for ironically the same reason I thought Brian had ditched me; I moved on to more popular kids for my brief stint of popularity in 7th and 8th grade. In 9th grade I had no friends at all… literally. Josh was welcoming with open arms and we had a great visit geeking out about our G.I. Joe days in front of his fiancé, Kim.
Seeing these beginnings of possibly rekindled friendships, along with the massive ex-girlfriend tour that I took this year rekindling those relationships, I see two more such visits to make. One I’ve been planning on since I left Denver back in March, and that’s to see Allyson. Originally I just planned to see her because I haven’t seen her since her wedding in ’03, and now she has two kids I’m quite curious to get a look at. Now, however, I’m curious to know what might come out of that visit in light of these reconciliations. To put it in Todd’s beloved AA terms, I’m wondering what amends I may have there as well.
The other is one I really hadn’t expected, and only recently cropped up as something I think I should do. I have long lost touch with a very close friend from college, my friend Dave. He was another I had a brotherly type friendship with for a good four or five years but had a bad unspoken rift that ended all communication. I think its high time I reconcile it one way or the other before I think about pressing on with another adventure.
There actually is one more that I’m going to have to hunt down, and that’s my good friend Katy from Texas. She vanished a few years ago off the face of New Jersey (understandable, really) leaving no forwarding address of any sort and leaving behind her a bit of a mess to untangle with another mutual friend of ours. It’s my impression that that’s why she’s remained in seclusion from us, but I think its time to reconcile that one as well. Time has passed and good friendships always improve after a mess like that anyway, and as I discovered with Brian there could be a whole perspective of it I missed.
Either way, I can’t get over the density of this year which has finally knocked me off my feet into Stacey’s home. I’m now around the corner from my Dad for a few weeks while I’m here, and am able to drop in on him as I did today which has long been needed in our relationship. I feel this massive year long life reunion with everyone is solidifying a wide base that I am going to need in the coming years. I don’t know why, or for what, if for anything other than just simply having everyone back in my life again, but it gives me the feeling of being apart of a huge, ever widening, family. Kinda something I’ve been seeking for a good long while now.
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